I'm Pregnant?
by crazypony37
Summary: Arthur Kirkland routinely found himself sick in the morning. When Alfred F Jones drags him to the doctor's what will happen? FrUK with others popping up. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Ok so this is my first fanfic ever and i hope you like it . . . . but I'm not sure if it's that good.

Anyways: Main pairing FrUK with some others popping up soon

Translations:

Engleetare- (America's French) England

Angleterre- (French) England

Human names are used, and thoughts are Italic.

* * *

Prelude:

When Arthur Kirkland had woken up that morning his life had been normal, or as normal as the life of a nation could be. Now as he stood in the rain outside the emergency room he realized his life had completely changed and whether that was good or bad he had no clue.

* * *

Arthur woke up at 7am and realized two things. First, it was raining, but in England that wasn't unusual. Second, his phone was ringing. He glanced at the Caller ID and saw it was Alfred. _Great just what I needed first thing in the morning. _Against his better judgment he answered the phone.

"Alfred why did you call me?"

"Whoa wait! I'm your brother like person thing why do I need a reason to call you?"

"Because every time you call me you're always up to something, like the last time when you put a giant 'Property of America' sign in my front yard!"

"Hahaha ok calm down, there is no sign this time."

"Well then what is it?"

"I called 'cuz I'm in London right now for the World Conference tomorrow, and I have decided to brighten your otherwise lame day and come over to your house!"

". . . wait, what, NO! You can't just invite yourself over to my house today! I have things to do!"

"Well . . . haha too late!"

"What the bloody hell do you mean too late?"

As he spoke the door to his bedroom flung open and in waltzed the American looking as if it was perfectly normal to break into some ones house and barge into their bedroom. Immediately Arthur jumped out of bed, his face as red as one of Antonio's tomatoes.

"What the bloody hell do you think –"

But before he had the chance to finish yelling at Alfred he felt a wave of nausea that sent him running for the bathroom instantly. As he leaned over the toilet puking his guts out, he was aware that Alfred had come to the door.

"How did you even got into my house you git?"

"Hahahaha . . . . Yeah about that, you're gonna need a new window."

"Bloody hell, that's it I am getting a security syste-"

The nausea came back, this time even stronger.

"Haha, jeeze Iggy what are you hung-over or something?"

"No I am not hung-over git! I'm just sick. It's been like this all week."

Alfred's joking smile instantly changed to a look of concern.

"Umm dude, this is got to be bad cuz if you're not hung-over, and it's not your food 'cuz you are the only one who doesn't get sick from that, then it's serious."

"Damn it! Again with the cooking. I have told you, and the rest of the world for that matter, that there is nothing wrong with my food!"

"Yeah yeah ok, come on to the doctor's we go!"

Arthur suddenly found himself slung over the shoulder of the younger nation, being toted down the stairs and out to his car.

Bloody hell! ALFRED PUT ME DOWN NOW!"

Alfred had driven him all the way to the doctor's office before he listened to the fact that first off this office was for children and second he was still in the boxers he had worn to bed. So after driving back home he got dressed, and then got back into the American's car, choosing to ignore the smashed window for now.

"So Iggy where to?"

"Ugh don't call me Iggy my name is Arthur. Just go to the emergency room, there is a doctor there who specializes in nations"

"Yeah ok _Arthur. _Jeeze Iggy why can't I call you Iggy, or would you prefer I call you Engleetare or what ever the hell it is Francis calls you?"

"Angleterre, it's Angleterre, and you know what, call me Iggy or what ever, I don't care"

* * *

Arthur had been sitting in the office for an hour, bored out of his mind. When they had arrived at the Emergency room, he had filled out some paperwork then a nurse had ran some tests on him , before placing him back into the dull waiting room. The walls of the room were painted beige and filled with diagrams of the human body and advertisements for medicines. The magazines on the tables were around a year old, and the one television in the room was tuned onto a rather depressing news channel. Everyone in the room seemed to be as bored as he was, except for Alfred who had managed to attract every child in the room, and was telling them loud stories about the adventures of Super America. Just as he was about to tell him to shut up and act his age a man in a doctor's coat walked in.

"Mr. Kirkland?"

"Hello that would be me."

"Good morning sir. My name is Dr. Brown and I have your test results. Would you mind following me to another . . . "

He glanced down at Alfred who had just yelled "BOOM!"

"Move to another, quieter room?"

"Yeah sure, Alfred if you do anything stupid I will personally see to it that you are never allowed into this country again."

Needless to say Arthur was not in the best of moods. And as he walked down the bare white hallway and into another room dingier then the waiting room his mood didn't improve. Arthur sat down in a seat as the doctor looked through his files again, as if he was questioning what they said.

"So. . . Mr. Kirkland or England which do you prefer?"

"Kirkland's fine, just get to the point would you."

"Yes . . . well the thing is I don't quiet know what to tell you."

"What do you mean you don't know what to tell me! You are a doctor and you are supposed to know!"

"No, Mr. Kirkland it's not that I don't know what it is. I just didn't think it was possible."

"Again I say, what the hell do you mean?"

"Well according to this . . . you are one month pregnant.

There was a moment of silence before Arthur got over his shock and regained his ability to speak.

" . . . . That bloody frog!"

* * *

Ok so thats it :D hope you liked it. Please review and what not :D


	2. Chapter 2

Ok well im accualy surprised at how fast i updated this. Well not really seeing as i was looking for a distraction and it was either this or Global homework. :D Anyways I hope you enjoy ALSO i don't own Hetalia at all, but it would be a cool birthday present *hint for those with power* :D

Translation:

mon petite- (french) my little. Yeah it's kinda a weird endearment term

mon cher- (french) my dear

mon ami- (french) my friend

¿podría callar- (spanish) would you shut up

Ok so ill admit it. I don't speak Spanish, and although my French is pretty good I have to use Goggle Translate for my Spanish. PLEASE corect my if I'm wrong.

_

* * *

_

Pregnant . . . he was what?

It seemed that Dr. Brown had dropped a bombshell on his life, and now he could barely remember who or where he was. He immediately felt his chest tighten, and his head cloud as panic began to set it.

"Mr. Kirkland . . . . are you all right? And what was that about a frog?"

"I . . . It's . . . GAH damn it! I need to think!"

"Mr. Kirkland wait! There are so many things we need to discus!"

"Yeah what ever I'm leaving now."

Full fledged panic had sunk into Arthur as he ran out of the Emergency room. As he ran down hallways, and out the front door, he had no clue what he needed except that he needed a place to calm down and think. And this god forsaken place was too stuffy to do much more then breathe. When he finally made it to the street a wave of joy rushed over him as he realized it was still raining. As the cold drops pelted down on him he felt the panic melt away and was glad, for one of the very few times in his life that the rain was here. He made his way over to Alfred's flashy mustang and sat down on the hood. He needed to think things out before Alfred found him and started pestering him with silly questions. _So he was pregnant._ For some reason that didn't surprise him, it was just his luck that something like this would happen.

* * *

Alfred had been so engrossed in telling his super-awesome-crazy-epic story of how he, Super America, single handedly saved the world from Mr. Dr. Evil Communism, he had completely missed the fact that Iggy had left the waiting room. Twenty minutes had gone by before in fact it was a four-year-old who noticed.

"And then I was like POW, BAM, BOOM! And Ivan I mean Mr. Dr. Evil Communism was like Ahhhhh no Super America your just too strong, and cool, and handsome, and –"

"Umm Mr.? Isn't that the guy you were here with?"

Alfred stopped talking and looked across the room to see a very pale faced Arthur bolt out of the office.

"Oh yeah that is. Ok guys you've all been awesome, and I mean super awesome, all most as awesome as me! But now I have to go!"

Alfred quickly ran out of the building trying to find where Arthur had run off to. _Note to self, stop using the word awesome so much I'm starting to sound like that weird Gilbert guy._ When he finally caught up to him the Brit was out in the rain, leaning against his car. When he looked closely at his face he could see tears forming in his eyes. That was one thing the American had only ever seen once.

"Arthur what's wrong?"

"Nothing absolutely nothing."

Things were bad.

* * *

_Things were good. _Francis thought to himself as he sat at the bar of a very loud and flashy club. _What more could a man need then his two best friends and a club full of beautiful men and women. _Speaking of his best friends, Antonio and Gilbert had just sauntered up to the bar. Well Gilbert sauntered, but Antonio didn't saunter so much as he did this weird skip-walk.

"Hey Frenchie! It was a great idea to come here, the awesome me is most pleased!"

It had been Francis' idea to bring his friends here. He had been on the way to the club anyways when he had found Antonio outside his hotel suit, crying about how "His little Lovi" had locked him out of their room. Considering that it was the third time that day this had happened, Francis figured Lovino was serious. So he had called Gilbert and together they dragged their bawling friend to the club. Now several hours, and many drinks later, Gilbert was thoroughly drunk, and Antonio and himself were well on their way.

"Yeah! It sure had taken my mind off of Lo-"

"Shhhhhhhh mon petite"

Francis reached over and pressed his finger to Antonio's lips, looking over the Spaniard's shoulder and winking and Gilbert, who was rolling his eyes.

"If you start thinking of him now you'll only upset yourself"

"Yeah think of something awesome like me, or sexy like Mathew!"

Francis who had resumed drinking nearly spit his drink across the bar.

"What did you just say about mon cher?"

"Whaaat? Your son-brother person is one damn sexy man, and should be addressed as such. It's too bad he's not here, we could have spent some quality time together, WITH MY FIVE METERS!"

The Prussian quickly dissolved into a fit of drunken laughter.

"Jeeze Gilbo ¿podría callar about the whole five meter thing for one night."

"Honestly Gilbert, I have no idea what he sees in you."

"HAHA bout you do know he sees something!"

Francis glanced down at his watch. _Ha 1am already._

"Yeah he does see something, Now if you two don't mind I am going to go find those twins I was with earlier and end my night right. Antonio you've got the extra key to my room so you can sleep on the couch if you can't get beck into your room."

"Yeah, uh huh."

Judging by the despaired look on his face, Francis could tell Antonio thought that the chances of that were slim. _Aww the poor guy must have compared Lovino to a tomato again. One would think he would learn._

"Ummmm, Francis, you do realize that the twins are guys, and they were only dressed as girls, right?"

"Actually dearest Gilbert, Michelle and Stacey, or Michael and Steve, used to be men, and yes I do know that."

"Ugh Francis you are really disgusting."

"Haha I also know mon ami, that you masturbate to a picture of Mathieu you took while hiding in the bushes outside his house."

And with that he left the bar, leaving one friend angrily stuttering, and the other laughing so hard he fell off his stool. He was sure he would end up paying for the comment later, but for now everything was perfect.


	3. Chapter 3

Ok so here is chapter 3 ! This was kinda a pain in the butt to write, not cuz it wasn't fun just because I keept getting ideas at 3am and i couldn't sleep untill i wrote then down. Enjoy !

I don't own Hetalia or Twitter btw!

Translations:

Au revoir- (french) Goodbye

Angleterre - (french) England

Ma chère Angleterre - (french) My dearest England

Très bonne non? - (french) Very good no?

Merde - (french) shit

* * *

Alfred had no clue what it was, but something was definitely wrong. Yesterday he had come out of the Emergency room to find Arthur obviously crying, but the Englishman had just denied everything then got in the car. With a wave of uncharacteristic restraint he had decided not to press the subject. He figured that Arthur would eventually tell him, or he would figure it out himself.

This morning Alfred had strolled into the Brit's kitchen (He had convinced him to let him stay the night) to find him sitting in his chair drinking tea and reading the morning paper. Next to him on the table was a plate of simmering food (maybe waffles?) Arthur said nothing at all to him when he sat down. Five minutes into breakfast the Englishman got up from the table and left the room, announcing that he would be waiting in the car.

Now Alfred found himself sitting in his rental outside of "L'hôtel de pommes de terre". When Arthur had asked him to take a detour on their way to the conference, he had figured it was to get documents or something, but now it was obvious Francis was staying here. Switching into Super Spy Hero mode, he assumed Francis had something to do with Arthur's crappie silent mood. _It figures, it normally does have something to do with him. _Alfred had no idea what he was planning to do to and-or with Francis but there was only two hors before the conference started. Considering Arthur was alone with Francis in a hotel . . . yeah they were going to be late.

* * *

Arthur walked into the front door of the hotel, not knowing what to do. Normal he spent at least an hour planning things, but right now he was "winging it." It was weird. He needed to find Francis, but he had no idea what room he was staying in. The only reason he knew what hotel to look in, was this retarded Twitter thing Alfred had made him join. The Frog had done everything he could to let the whole world know where he would be staying alone in a hotel. _Pervert. _He was just about to walk up to the front desk when he spotted Antonio with Lovino in the lounge. _Good id anyone where to know where Francis is, it would be Antonio. _

"Umm excuse me Antonio, I need to ask you a question."

The Spaniard looked up from his papers wearing his ever present smile. Looking as if seeing Arthur had made is whole day wonderful. His Italian companion on the other hand looked as disgusted as someone who had smelled week old trash,

"Ugh what are you doing here bastard?"

"Lovi ! We're in England why wouldn't he be here?"

"This stupid hotel you picked to stay at is French ! I was under the impression that he hated the wine bastard more then I do !"

"Lovi ! Francis is your brother !"

"Oh Yeah ! Says who !"

"Feli !"

"HA ! 'Cuz ya know everything that retarded brother of mine says is right. Besides if the wine bastard's my brother then why does he constantly try to rape me !"

"LOVI ENOUGH ! They are your brothers so stop being so rude !"

Arthur feeling forgotten, and not liking the way the conversation was going decided to regain their attention.

"Eh-hem yeah Antonio? Do you know which room Francis is in?"

"Oh ! Sorry Arthur. Yeah he's in room 1224."

"Top floor, it figures. Thanks Antonio."

"Hey bastard! If you're going to kill him, would you call me before he dies. I would really love to kick him in the balls."

"LOVI !"

As the two launched into another argument, Arthur decided it was a good time to leave.

* * *

After managing to find the elevators, Arthur had to wait 15 minutes before an elevator opened that wasn't filled with chattering Frenchies. _For all that talk about how France is generally better then England, there sure seems to be a lot of the French in England. Then again the pests seem to be everywhere. _When Arthur got to the top floor he began searching for room 1224. Francis' room was at the end of the hall and appeared to be the largest. _Go figure. _He raised his hand to knock on the door, but just before his hand reached it ,it opened.

"Well , well, well. Stacey what do we have here?"

"I don't know Michelle, but it's cute."

"I might even say sexy."

They giggled. Two horrifying manly giggles. Obviously these "women" were not what they seemed. And they were in Francis' room. _Wonderful._

"Hello, I do have a name."

"Well then do tell gorgeous."

"Yeah . . . My name's Arthur. I'm looking for Francis, do you perhaps know where he is?"

"Well Arthur my name's Michelle and this is my sister Stacey."

Arthur seriously doubted that they were sisters. Brothers maybe.

"And Francis?"

"Oh him. He's still asleep and we were just leaving. Of coarse we could always stay longer if you asked."

"Yeah no. I want to speak to him, alone."

"Ha-ha yeah speaking is the only thing you want to do with Francis. But no worries we get it. You don't like a crowd. Au revoir !"

Arthur shivered as the two men walked away giggling. _And people think Ivan's laugh is creepy. Well at least they are gone, and i've found Francis. _So far this whole "No plan" thing was working.

* * *

_Was something burning? _Francis immediately shot out of bed. He quickly surveyed the room to see if it was on fire. _Well Michelle and Stacey aren't here with me, which means they're gone and so is what ever money I had in my wallet. _Francis left his room, not bothering to put his clothes on, and walked into the living room. _Antonio's not on the couch. Must be Lovino let him back in, both of them will be very happy today. _Francis continued on into the kitchen, following the ever stronger burning smell. He walked through the archway to find Arthur attempting to cook something.

" Ang . . . Angleterre?"

"Francis."

" You're in my kitchen?"

"You're naked."

Francis was completely shocked to find the Englishman in his kitchen. It had been nearly a month since they had last seen each other, and their farewell hadn't been the sweetest.

"Well 'm not putting on clothes."

"Well I'm not leaving your kitchen."

"Then ma chère Angleterre, for the sake of the world please stop cooking."

Arthur's face, as expected, instantly switched from uninterested to grumpy.

"What's that supposed to mean Frog."

"This unidentifiable burning lump of blackness you cal food, woke me up from a dead sleep."

"Its scrambled eggs, and the fact you woke up is pure coincidence and means nothing !"

Francis decided as long as he was naked and Arthur was here, he might as well press his luck. He stepped forward pinning the Brit to the stove, and getting so close they were almost pressed against each other. He was practically purring with excitement, among other things.

"It means everything mon petit lapin."

Within a second Arthur lost every bit of composure he had gathered whilst Francis was sleeping.

"GHAH! St- Step back ! you're naked for Christ's sake ! Put some bloody clothes on!

"Ha-ha still so innocent. Fine but only if you sit at the table and promise to stay five feet away from the stove at all times."

Half on hour later Francis had put some "decent" clothes on (his first thong and cat ears ensemble being rejected by Arthur) and made some edible scrambled eggs.

"Très bonne non?"

"What ever they're ok."

"You just don't want to admit that they are the best you've ever had."

"No I don't ! I've made better !"

"Ha I sincerely doubt that. Anyways Angleterre, If you aren't here to see me in my naked glory then why?"

"You're not even going to question how I got here in the first place?"

"Eh, why question a gift?"

"Ha gift yeah, well you probably should tell your wonderful friends Michelle and Stacey not to leave your door open for anyone to walk into when they leave in the morning."

"Ha I'll remember that the next time I'm down at the club, but seriously Angleterre why are you here ?"

At this point Francis had looked down at his plate to admire his culinary masterpiece, but after receiving no response he looked up at Arthur to find a "deer caught in the headlights" expression plastered to his face.

"Angleterre what is it?"

"It's . . . hard to explain."

"Surely It can't be that hard. Just say it outright, I don't need a sugar coating."

"I'm . . . pregnant."

It was Francis' turn to be caught in the headlights.

"You're pregnant?"

"It's yours."

That one sentence had just made everything worse. Francis could already feel panic setting in.

". . . What? How are you so sure it's mine. Wait can you even be pregnant you're a man. Even if you can be pregnant how are you so sure it's mine. I mean its been a month since the last time we were together. There must have been some other man right? It couldn't be me!"

"No, no I', certain it's you!"

"How do you kn-"

"don't you get it you stupid frog !"

"Get what Angleterre ? You've barely said anything !"

Arthur stopped yelling, his voice dropped to barely audible and Francis could see the tears rolling down his face.

"It has to be you, there only ever was you."

". . . Arthur you mean-"

"Yes Francis, despite what you and the rest of the world think about my relations with Alfred and Kiku, you are the only person I have ever had sex with !"

Francis sat clueless as to what to do, as anger returned to Arthur's voice as he began another tirade.

"I . . . I didn't know. I've always assumed I was your back up plan."

"Well now you know ! You were my first and my only ! Pretty stupid of me to pick you, considering every time I gave you my heart , and every time you threw it on the ground to go mess around with every person who so much as looked your way !"

"Angleterre don't say thing like that."

"Damn it Francis I will! Even last month, when you got me into this mess, you had a girl lined up to take my place after words !"

"Non ! It wasn't like that !

"She was waiting to see you. Which means what, she wasn't even taking my place because I had n place, I was just there to keep you occupied until she arrived. How old was she ! Barely 18 I'd say ! Do you know how creepy that is !"

"ARTHUR ! Listen to me !"

Arthur stopped mid-tirade to see Francis standing, looking away from him and out the window.

"What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"Her name is Claire, it was her birthday."

"Oh so great now I know her name !"

"She is my daughter !"

'. . . Your what ?"

"My daughter. She was an accident, conceived on a one night stand I had with her mother 18 years ago. I had no idea she existed until she hunted me down two years ago. She's not a nation, but seeing as she's mine and I love her more then life its self, we spend every holiday she gets with each other."

"I . . . didn't know."

"One of my only regrets is that I've missed 16 years of her life. 16 years of a child's life I had no idea existed. It makes me think of all the other children I might have had over the centuries that I didn't know about."

Arthur's anger faded away. The look on Francis' face worried him. His face was blank and the pure depression radiating from him made the Englishman sick to his stomach. _Looks like I found the only thing he's serious about._

"Look I'm really sorry I said anything."

"Non don't be, its my fault for not telling you, and my fault for treating you like merde."

Francis looked away from the window, and straight into Arthur's eyes.

"So you really are pregnant."

"Yeah it sure looks like it. Blasted hormones."

A smile slowly spread across Francis' face, but it wasn't his usual pervy smile. This smile managed to look both amused and content at the same time.

Well then Angleterre. It looks like I'm with you from now on because I'm not messing up this child's life."

* * *

Ok Claire ! Yeah she's my brand spaking new OC ! Yes she is Francis' daughter, and yeah it does seem a little convinient that she shows up right when Arthurs preggos BUT well !st its my story :p and 2nd It's Francis of coarse he has kids !

Hahaha ok for those of you who are wondering the translated name of the hotel is "The Hotel of Potatoes" yeah its kinda an inside joke , cept normaly me and my bud say Le terre de pomme de terre. Yeah ! ok 4th Chapter soon ! Maybe, school's starting again soooooo yeah.


	4. Chapter 4

Bonjour mes amis ! Haha ok so here be my new fabulous chapter ! Sorry this took so long (was it long? it felt like a long time for me.) Seeing as school has started and I really would not like to fail this year I had to do some very boring homework. Haha yeah so there is some new nations in this chapter. Most are full out introduced but others you'll have to guess. Have fun. Also ther is some more Spanish and une petit peu of some German. Luckily I have a very cool and sexy German friend I can bother for the German so that should be correct. As for the Spanish wel... the only Spanish education I have is from Dora the Explorer so I'll i really know how to do is yell at a fox, and talk to a squirrle. If i am wrong (which i hope I am not) please correct me just like the very cool Pinky did! I'm rambling . . . .

Translations:

Angleterre- (French) England

Amerique- (French) America

Oui- (French) yes

lapin- (French) rabbit

Ce n'est pas horrible- (French) It is not horrible

Mais non- (French) But no

C'était amusant, non?- (French) It was funny, no?

cher- (French) dear

Bonjour tout le monde- (French) hello everyone/world

quoi angleterre- (French) What England

Entschultigung- (German) Excuse me

bruder- (German) brother

Oui très amusant- (French) Yes very funny

mis amigos- (Spanish) my friends

bébé- (French) baby

¡Dios mio- (Spanish) my god

Ok sooo i think i may have missed a few of the words that needed to be translated, but I'm not sure. If so pop 'em into a translator they should come out pretty acurate

Also i hope you enjoy the little noices Arthur makes in this :D i had a lot of fun spelling them XD

* * *

Arthur walked down the hallway cursing Francis and his face. _That smile, that god damned cocky smile! I'm going to slap it right off his face if he doesn't stop. _For the last half an hour the world's most self-satisfied grin had been plastered to Francis' face, and it was bugging the crap out of Arthur. After spending the last couple hundred years with the Frenchman he knew all too well what that smile meant. Francis was planning something, and he wasn't going to like it one bit. Before they had left the hotel they had discussed their living arrangements, seeing as Francis thought he shouldn't be left alone. Considering there was no way in hell Arthur would ever stay in France for longer then a meeting, Francis had invited himself to Arthur's house for the next eight months or so. This caused another little argument but in the end they had both settled for living in England and left for the meeting. It wasn't until he found the parking lot empty of Alfred did he realize how long he had been with Francis. He had been inside for more then two hours and at best the American had enough patience to last ten minutes, so it wasn't hard to figure out why he wasn't waiting for him.

"Angleterre I thought you said Amerique was out here?"

"Francis."

"Oui?"

"Francis."

"Oui . . ?"

"Alfred and I came here more then two hours ago.

"Oui."

"That means the meeting started more then an hour ago."

"And your point is?"

"For the first time in my life I am late for a meeting! And not just a little late! An hour late! And it's my meeting! This is entirely your fault!"

"How is it my fault when you are the one who came to me?"

"I only came to you to talk about important stuff!"

"Because you got pregnant."

"Because you were too stupid to figure out how to use a condom!"

"Not too stupid, just too impatient. Lapin please calms down and look at the brighter side of this."

Arthur stood there enveloped in his sudden anger. The nerve that man had to just stand there and laugh at him!

"What brighter side! I'm late to my own meeting and very angry!"

"And hormonal on top of that, mais ce n'est pas horrible. It is just a meeting."

"It's not just a meeting it's my meeting!"

"Oui, oui, but the brighter side is normally I am more then two hours late to such things."

". . . yeah so?"

"You improve me Angleterre."

With that Francis leaned over and pecked the Englishman on the cheek, causing his face to go from red with anger to pink from embarrassment.

"Gah Francis, don't think that just because I am pregnant with your child, that it means you have a free pass to hit on me!"

"Oh non I wouldn't even dream of it."

"And don't think, even for a moment, that being a . . . . A mother is going to make me all squishy and sentimental. I am still the best damn pirate this world has ever seen, and I can still kick your ass anytime I want to."

"Mais non! Never would I think anything of the sort!"

"Ugh nothing, I repeat nothing could ever improve you."

"Hmm really now. Is it because just as I do, you see me as perfect already?"

"Gwapft No! You frog are thee most arrogant person I have ever meet. Not even "The Hero" or "The Awesome Prussia", heavy on the quotes mind you, could ever come close to how conceited you are."

Much to Arthur's annoyance Francis just laughed then hailed down a cab. When one finally stopped, the Frenchman opened the door then extravagantly bowed, gesturing for Arthur to get in.

"You realize Arthur I only do it because you enjoy it."

"Enjoy it! It bloody pisses me off!"

"Oui that too."

* * *

Alfred had begun to worry, not too much though because heroes don't worry too much. Almost three hours ago he had drove away from the hotel, figuring Arthur would have been done soon and could get a cab. But that had been three hours ago. _What could those two possibly be doing that would take this long . . . ewwwwww Alfred get your head out of the gutter! Such thoughts will ruin your heroic reputation! _The meeting was supposed to have started an hour ago, but seeing as the host nation hadn't showed up yet, the other nations were going about their normal conversations. Alfred glanced around the conference room taking in the unusually un-chaotic atmosphere. His brother Mathew was sitting next to him talking to his bear, completely oblivious to the more then creepy (and definitely not awesome) stares from Gilbert. _Pfft for all his talk about conquering vitals, Gilbo sure isn't taking the manly route this time. _On Mathews left sat Antonio and Lovino, utterly immersed in an argument over tomatoes. _Well nothing new there._ Separated from Antonio by a single empty chair was Gilbert, who seemed to be harassing his brother and Roderick between glances at Mathew. As Gilbert blathered on about awesomeness and five meters, each comment becoming more sexual as time went on, Ludwig seem to be eternally face palming and Roderick looked as if he was seriously considering murder. Elizabeta, who was next to Roderick, was having a dilemma over if she should use her frying pan or her camera. And if to make matters worse Feliciano was bouncing between Ludwig and Lovino blabbering on about pasta, hats, and rubber ducks. _Hahaha those guys are probably the weirdest people in the world._

Several other nations were scattered around the table, and on the other end from Alfred sat the Nordics. He couldn't exactly make out what they were talking about, but every once in a while he would catch bits of their arguments. Most of the exclamations went along the lines of "Oh Su-san you know you love me, there is no reason to stab me!" or "Berwald please don't call me your wife, It's embarrassing." As far as Alfred could tell all the nations were in a good mood, if a little anxious from the wait. Even with a growing impatience the room was seemingly peaceful, most likely because of the lack of inter-regional fights caused by him and the two absent nations. Alfred was just about to call Arthur (No he was not paranoid or scared! Heroes never get scared!) when he was interrupted.

"Alfred you seem very quiet today da?"

Alfred nearly jumped out of his seat (Nearly!) and looked up to find his not-so-favorite nation starring at him from a few seats down. Around him quivered the three Baltics and behind him was his creepy ass sister. The girl's normal glare seemed to intensify when she heard Ivan talking to him.

"Why the hell are you watching me? "

"Become one?"

"Fuck no! Heroes don't become one!"

"Hmm maybe another day then?"

"Never it I can help it! Anyways, have you noticed something odd about the conference?"

"You mean besides the fact that Arthur and Francis are missing? No actually I was enjoying the quiet."

"Exactly! So far everything is normal!"

Just then the door to the conference room burst open, causing all of the nations to stop what they were doing. Preceded by a whirlwind of roses, Francis dramatically walked in practically dragging Arthur by the hand.

"I think Alfred you may have spoken too soon."

Alfred stared in shock at the flowers that were assaulting the room. _There must be at least a thousand._

"Where the hell does he keep all those!"

* * *

Francis was very pleased with himself. As he glanced around the conference room he noted the expressions of his fellow nations. They seemed to range anywhere from amusement to out right fear, but what made everything better was the raving Englishman behind him.

"Francis what the bloody hell do you think you are doing! That is on of the most important doors in England and you just kicked it open! That is no way to arrive at a meeting! Especially when you're late! I knew I shouldn't have let you stop at the florist on the way over! And who the hell keeps one thousand flowers on reserve for them selves!"

Francis just laughed as he turned to his companion. He made sure to keep his hands in very intimate places.

"C'était amusant, non?"

"No it was not fun Francis! Hands off me! Everyone is going to stare!"

"you do realize cher that they have been watching us for quite some time"

Francis watched in amusment as Arthur jumped backwards, face as red as the roses all over the room.

"Hahaha. Bonjour tout le monde!"

"Ahhh . . . yeah . . . hello."

* * *

Arthur was furious, and Francis was going to die.

When Francis had busted through the doors to the conference room, he had figured that the Frenchman had reached his daily goal of annoyance. Apparently not.

After addressing the world, Francis had just walked over to the table and sat in the chair next to the head seat. His seat. Antonio and Gilbert seemed to have been miffed at Francis' ignorance to the seat they had saved. Arthur had then reluctantly sat in his seat and apologized for his lateness. Then the meeting had finally begun, with Ludwig leading the first topic of discussion. Ten minutes into the meeting his were assaulted from under the table. He looked up to send Francis his best glare, only to find the frog directing his "heart melting" smile at him. With a wink he then turned to talk with Vash, still continuing the awkward game of footsy. With a swift kick to the shin Arthur ended the silliness. Much to his annoyance, five minutes later Francis decided to repeatedly poke his thigh. Arthur was only slightly annoyed until the poking changed into tickling, then it was way too much.

"Gwaahh Francis ENOUGH!"

"Quoi Angleterre is my tantalizing touch too much for you ?"

"No bloody heel it is not ! We're in public for Christ's sake!"

"Ohohoh so you wish to continue this some where private?"

Ludwig had been in the middle of a very relevant lecture on the proper conduct for world meetings. Obviously Arthur and Francis (well Francis for sure) had not been listening.

"Entschultigung ! Francis ,Arthur what the hell are you two doing !"

"Relax bruder, they're doing something fucking funny ! Which is more then I can say about you."

"Gilbert would you kindly shut up!"

"Hahaha Specs you can't shut up awesomeness!"

As the two Germans and the Austrian dissolved into another argument, they made the mistake of forgetting Francis and Arthur.

"WHAT THE FUCK FRANCIS! HAND. OUT. OF. PANTS. NOW!"

The room instantly silenced except for two very distinct laughs. Francis and Gilbert were now standing together laughing their heads off.

"Kesesese Francis way to get some vitals !"

"Ohohoh. Oui très amusant."

"Uhhh mis amigos . . . you might want to stop. Arthur is looking . . . . Scary."

Francis and Gilbert stopped mid-celebration to look at Arthur, who was now slowly advancing towards the two.

"Damn it Francis ! Today is the day I finally kill you!"

"Haha . . . Angleterre . . . y-you, you don't want to d-do that."

Arthur stepped forward wearing an expression that rivaled Ivan's angry face.

"Oh believe me you retarded frog, there is nothing I would enjoy more at the moment."

"Not even a . . . . a drink! Yes a drink, do you want a drink! All you can drink and I'll pay for it!"

"For once Frenchie, I'm going to turn down the offer."

"B-but Angleterre y-you don't want to kill me. y-you love me non?"

"Nope not at all."

Francis suddenly found himself backed against a wall, and with his friends frozen by the table, obviously in no condition to help, he decided to play his last card.

"But Arthur ! Think about the bébé your carrying. Our bébé!"

As expected Arthur froze just before attacking Francis. Gilbert and Antonio had finally regained their senses and were on the way to rescue Francis, but they froze just as quickly as Arthur.

"What the hell Francis! You knocked up Arthur!"

"¡Dios mio . . ."

"Bloody hell Francis you did not just shout that for the world to hear!"

* * *

Ok so that is the end of that lil' chapter :D. Oh god was i really just too lazt to type out little . . . . jeeze. Hope you guys liked it and I love every single one of your reveiws and when people story alert this or favorite it my ego soars ! Haha that particular fact has been annoying several of the people around me considering my ego was pretty high up to begin with :D but what ever :D!


	5. Chapter 5

WOOOTS CHAPTER 5 ! Ok thank you guys for all your faves, and story alerts, and reveiws ! I think that if i knew where you all lived i would send you all cookies ! I would do it too ! This chapter was so much fun to write, although i think i got some weird looks from people as a laughed my ass off as i wrote this. Haha there are some inside jokes sprinkled in here from my CRAZY AWESOME LUCH CREW ! But for those of you who don't eat lunch with me don't worry they will still seem funny to you, just for different reasons.

Translations:

bébé- (french) baby

mon petit- (french) my little

Bonjour papa et ses amis- (french) Hello papa and friends

Salut Mathieu- (french) Hi Mathew

Hola- (Spanish) hello

non- (french) no

Pour quoi- (french) why?

Mais mon amor- (french) but my love

pour moi- (french) for me

Excusez-moi s'il vous plait- (french) excuse me please

Non! Je ne veux pas- (french) No! I don't want to

cher-(french) dear

mon petit lapin-(french) my little rabbit

mon cher-(french) my dear

Je t'aime-(french) I love you

Oui-(french) yes

Ok so those are all the translations i caught. I missed any then . . . . idk put them in a translator ?

Mathew swearing . . . what !

* * *

If the conference room had been considered hectic before, it was nothing compared to what it was now. As soon as Francis had said the word "bébé" everyone in the room had sprung into action. A small panic had taken over the room as everyone tried to figure out how Arthur had managed to get himself pregnant. Every nation was pretty much shouting at each other, with the exception of Antonio, Gilbert, and Francis. Immediately after Arthur had released the Frenchman the other two nations had rushed over and dragged Francis into the nearest corner. Now the trio was rapidly chattering away in what sounded like, and probably was, three different languages. As Arthur watched the trio he tried to figure out the best possible way to grab Francis again and kill him before anyone could stop him. _Maybe if I threw my briefcase at Gilbert's head that would distract Antonio and Gilbert long enough to- _Before he could finish his thought he felt a tap on his shoulder and then he was spun around.

"What the hell Arthur!"

Standing side-by-side in front of Arthur was Alfred and Mathew. Alfred was standing, arm crossed, looking Arthur in the eyes and glaring. Mathew on the other hand was smiling and trying g his best not to burst out laughing.

"What the bloody hell do you mean?"

"HA! Don't pretend to be ignorant! You are fucking pregnant!"

". . . "

"And you didn't even tell me! This is why you had that panic attack outside the hospital isn't it!"

"Yeah! And what if it is! Do you have a problem with me being pregnant! Was this not in your master plan for my life! Because let me tell you it sure wasn't in mine!"

"N-no! But Francis? I thought you hated him!"

"I do! But things . . . and . . . stuff."

It was then that Mathew burst out laughing. The two other nations stopped their bickering and turned to look at the seemingly insane Canadian.

"Mathew what the hell is your problem?"

"You! You're so funny!"

"Mattie, dude, you are making like zero sense!"

"Arthur you are by far the most stubborn person in the world! Can't you just admit to your feelings? It's not like they are really a secret. We can all tell."

"Tell what Mathew?"

"Yeah Mattie. What?"

"Never mind you guys are fucking ridiculous."

"Mathew you need to watch your mouth! And stop laughing nothing is funny here!"

"But it is funny! I always knew you and papa would end up in something like this."

"Did mon petit just call me papa?"

Arthur sometimes swore that Francis had radar or something in his head to sense when he was being mentioned in conversations, but not wanted to join. This was one of those times. With their little huddle finished the trio of doom wandered over to Arthur's group.

"Bonjour papa et ses amis!"

"Salut Mathieu."

"Hola."

"Ummmm . . . hello Mattie."

The trio of nations instantly launched themselves into a conversation with Mathew and Alfred. Antonio and Alfred were pleasantly chatting and Mathew and Gilbert were . . . _Good God are they flirting! What the hell is happening! _Suddenly there was a pair of arms wrapped around Athur's waist. Whilst Arthur had been distracted Francis had snuck behind him and was currently using his shoulder as a chin rest.

"Those two are cute together non?"

"Gahh Francis let go!"

"Pour quoi?"

"Because I don't want you grabbing at me!"

The other nations, distracted by the noises Arthur was making, stopped their conversations and were now watching the pair intensely. With Arthur's anger visibly rising and Francis' close call earlier, Antonio and Gilbert placed bets on how long Francis had to live.

"Mais mon amour, I'm not grabbing at you. I am embracing you and showering you with all my love. Besides I came over here simply to take you with me to explain things."

"I don't want to, and I was having a very important conversation before you and your friends interrupted."

"Ahh but you see we all know you always do things pour moi. Provided I ask nicely."

Francis then turned his head a little to the left and planted a very loud kiss on Arthur's cheek, then turned to their audience and gave them a trademark Francis wink. With a quick twirl Francis spun himself and Arthur in a circle, grabbed the Englishman's wrist, and marched towards the conference table.

* * *

When Francis walked into a room he always had two goals in mind.

Goal One: Get everyone to look at him.

Goal Two: Get everyone to talk about him.

When he had entered the room in a whirlwind of beautiful everyone had certainly noticed him, but they had been easily distracted. Now they were talking about him, but not really him just what he had done. But Francis and his ego (which was definitely large enough to be another person or two) were going to change that very, very soon. With a mischievous grin he turned to his English companion.

"Are you going to let me go now Francis?"

"Yeah sure. Watch this!"

"Bloody hell what are you planning now!"

Francis immediately dropped Arthur's hand then leaped onto the table. After twirling several times he ripped off his suit coat and threw it across the room for good measure.

"Excusez-moi s'il vous plait!"

Behind him he could hear Gilbert, Antonio, Mathieu, and Alfred laughing. Closer then the laughter was the very loud, barely understandable English cursing. In front of him was the rest of the world looking at him like he had just given birth to an elephant. _Teehee birth._ The cursing and the looks didn't deter him so much as they motivated him more then the laughter did.

"To answer all of your questions, yes Arthur is pregnant, and yes I am the father. Now I know many of you are wondering how this happened. Well when a man and, well in this case another man, love each other very, very much-"

"Would you shut up Francis! And get off the damned table!"

"Non! Je ne veux pas!"

Francis stuck out his tongue like a stubborn child, which finally caused Arthur to snap and tackle Francis. The wrestling on the table between the two only stopped when they were pulled apart by Ludwig and Ivan. Even though the German had a firm grip on Arthur he couldn't completely stop the Englishman from swiping at Francis. Francis found himself laughing as he was wrapped in a full body Russian hug.

Arthur what the hell has gotten into you !"

"That prat has gotten on m last nerve! He is the cause of all my headaches that aren't American!"

"Hey!"

"Shut up Alfred!"

"Haha Francis you sure are feisty da?"

Arthur, Ludwig, and the rest of the world turned to look at the pair they had almost forgotten. They found Ivan with his arms still wrapped around Francis, who was obviously doing his best to make a move. For some unknown reason this made Arthur angrier then any of the Frenchman's crazy antics. He instantly broke free from Ludwig and marched straight over to the duo.

"Ivan Braginski you let go of him now! Francis shut your whore mouth!"

"What ever do you mean Angleterre?"

"Don't you even start with me frog!"

Arthur reached Francis, grabbed him by the wrist, and pulled him towards the door.

"What are we doing cher?"

"You are leaving with me now."

"Haha your place or mine sexy?"

"I said don't start!"

* * *

The conference room was in complete chaos and it was entirely Arthur and Francis' fault. Mostly it was Francis' fault, but that didn't make Ludwig any fonder of Arthur. The giant wrestling match they started had mixed together the files of god-knows-how-many governments and the mess would surely take at least an hour to straighten up. In wake of their dramatic departure they had quite literally left the world in shambles. Feliciano was running around telling everyone his brother was going to be a dad, as if they didn't already know. Gilbert and Mathew were collapsed in a fit of laughter in one of the corners and Romano looked as if he had lost his mind. He was occupying himself with screaming at everyone and anyone he could think of. Some nations like Elizaveta seemed to be nursing bloody noses (obviously thinking about how babies were made) but most were gossiping with in their groups. Ludwig seemed to be one of the few who were trying to regain control. To his left he saw Antonio attempting to calm down Romano and Roderick shoving tissues in Elizaveta's face. He gave them a sympathetic glance, but it was obvious their efforts would accomplish little. _Damn-it I'm going to have to fix this by myself._ Without a second thought he took the empty position at the head of the table and cleared his throat.

"Everybody shut the hell up !"

For a moment the conference room silenced, but it was a very short moment. Ludwig had never been ignored in his life (not counting Feliciano) and this sudden rejection perturbed him on a very deep level. _Those two are in deep shit !_

* * *

Arthur marched out of the building at top speed, ignoring the laughter coming from the Frenchman he was towing. Once outside he hailed a cab and threw Francis into the first one that stopped. He then sat down next to Francis and directed the cabbie to take them back to Francis' hotel.

"So we are going back to my place."

"Yes."

"Are we going to do what I think we are going to do?"

"No! You are going to get your stuff and then we are going to my house."

"To do wh-"

"NO! Just stop. Do you ever think of anything else?"

"Non not really. So why did we leave your meeting so soon? You were throwing a fit earlier about being late."

"I . . . I don't know, I just needed to leave."

"With me?"

"Yes with you, why else would you be here?"

"You didn't have to take me. I was just fine staying there with Ivan."

"And that is exactly why I took you."

"What?"

"No-nothing!"

"HAHA LIAR ! you are jealous of me! And my flirting skills!"

"Jealous of what ! A sleazy Frenchman!"

"Non, jealous that this sleazy Frenchman isn't devoting 100% of his attention to you."

"Gwaphaw! NO! I don't want any of your attention!"

At this point Arthur's face had turned a deep red, and he was practically screaming at the top of his lungs. The only thing that stopped him was the strange looks the cab driver was already giving them.

"You chaps alright back there?"

"Yes sir, just fine it's just that he's . . . French."

"Ahh I see."

"Haha mon petit lapin, I don't know why I haven't noticed this before but you are very much like Lovino when you are angry."

"And what is that supposed to mean!"

"It means you get all red and cute and puffy when you're angry."

"Oh shut your mouth and get out we're here!"

After paying the driver the two got out of the car and stood in front of the hotel.

"Will you be coming in with me cher?"

"No. I don't think I ever want to go into that hotel ever again. Bad things happen in there."

"Oh stop freaking out about the 'man giggles'. They're not that scary."

"Never! Those two people have scarred me for life! Now run in and get your things."

"Haha fine mon cher. Je t'aime!"

As Francis strutted into the hotel Arthur watched him leave. _He doesn't really mean that right?_

* * *

It had been practically a half-hour before Francis returned with his ludicrous amount of luggage. It took both men and a miracle to fit all five bags in the back of their latest cab so they could finally get to Arthur's house.

"Good lord man you have five bags of clothing with you!"

"I know, I'm going to have to purchase more while I'm here."

"More!"

"Yes Arthur, more. I only packed for the week I thought I was going to spend here."

"Five bags for a week!"

"Oui! And sense I'm going to be here for how ever long your pregnant I'll need more."

"Your fricken crazy."

"And you see imaginary creatures. Now, how long will you be pregnant?"

"Well stupid the standard time is nine months."

"Yes, yes I know that, but if you haven't noticed you are anything but the standard mother."

"Are you insulting me!"

"non I am simply stating that you have no uterus."

That outburst freaked out the driver so much he nearly wrecked the cab.

"Well then . . . I guess I don't really know."

"Hmmm what about that doctor you spoke to before?"

"Ugh I really don't want to see him again."

"But he may be the only person who knows."

"Well. . . "

"Is he good looking?"

"Francis!"

"That's it we are going!"

* * *

OK that's it ! Hope you liked it! Haha look at that Mathew laughs at people and swears ! He's not all inocent ya' know. I've been cussed out by a Canadian before, granted he was a french speaking hobo in Quebec BUT STILL !

P.S. for those of you thinking it. No I have not forgoten Claire. Yes she will be here VERY soon ;-)


	6. Chapter 6

Whoas look at this Chapter 6 ! I have been told by several people that they have waited long enough for this and you guys are prolly right. So here it is in all its crazy random crack filled fowl language glory ! This story has forced me to improve my English but yeah it's still not that good. No Spanish so i shouldn't have failed speaking. No german either which means i won't be hunted down for bugging my german friend too much (yay ! i can live !). Hmmm there is a lot of stuff I'll have to go through and translate though so I'll do that now !

Translations:

Angleterre- (french) England

Oui je sais- (french) yes I know

le petit garcon- (french) the little boy (there is supposed to be a little tail thing (forgot the name) on the C but it wont show for some reason)

Oui amour- (french) yes love

Bien- (french) good

Rape Baby- (American) well ... I'm not even sure what to say to explain this, just take it in context

Amerique-(french) America

Chouchou-(French) literaly cabbage cabbage but it's supposed to be an endearment term

Je ne sais pas- (french) I don't know

Volez-vous couche avec moi ce soir-(french) for those of you who dont know it means Would you sleep with me tonight

mon amour-(french) my love

Monsieur Brun-(french) Mr. Brown

L'hopital-(french) hospital (again with the accents that wont appear. There is supposed to be a hat thingy on the O)(teehee to those who know what im laughing about)

Maintenant-(french) now

Chercher-(french) along the same terms as chouchou

Je m'appelle-(french) my name is

Le gasp- (prolly not real french but i think it should be noted up here) GASP !

Cher-(french) dear

Petit ami-(French) Little Friend

Gentlemen Veggietables-(English) penis

Bonjour. Êtes-vous Monsieur Kirkland-(french) hello are you Mr/ Kirkland ?

Anyways Enjoy the show !

* * *

Arthur's house was magnificent to say the least. Granted it wasn't nearly as flamboyant or decorative as any of the houses Francis owned, but its plain beauty still managed to shock the viewer's eyes. Francis chuckled to himself as he realized that description fit the owner of the house perfectly. The London estate was a perfect reflection of the Englishman's personality. Every detail was in perfect order, the patterns repeated in an organized matter, even the flowers seemed to bloom without fault. From the rows of hedges to the perfectly symmetrical build, Francis could only find one blemish on the house.

"Angleterre your window?"

"Yes I know. Alfred decided to break that yesterday."

"And you haven't fixed it yet?"

"If you haven't noticed I've been a little busy lately."

"Ah oui, je sais. I am a very demanding lover."

"Oh shush."

The two men walked into the house dragging Francis' luggage with them. Much like the exterior, the interior design was orderly and precise.

"So where should I put my stuff?"

"Excuse me?"

"What room will I be sleeping in whilst I am here?"

"Umm… well… Alfred's in the guest room and-"

"Your room it is!"

"You are not sleeping in my room!" I'm sleeping in my room!"

"Well of coarse you are! That is what makes it fun for me to sleep in your room."

"Why would I let you in my room!"

"Because you love me."

Before Arthur could continue protesting, there was a loud explosion like sound that came from the kitchen. Both men dropped what they were holding and bolted towards the noise. Arthur burst through the kitchen door to find Peter covered head to toe in flour and eggs.

"Peter Kirkland how the hell did you get into my house!"

"Well that's a stupid question jerk! I came through the broken window of coarse!"

"Why are you in my kitchen! Aren't you supposed to be with Tino and Berwald!"

"Well I got bored sitting outside the conference room and I wanted some cake."

"I have no cake!"

"I know that! That's why I'm making some duh!"

"Then would you care to explain why you are covered in flour AND WHY IS THE OVEN SMOKING !"

"Well Arthur it appears le petit garcon has inherited your cooking skills along with those eyebrows."

Arthur turned from the young boy to glare at the Frenchman behind him. Francis was leaning against the frame of the door watching the scene unfold with a smug smile painted onto his face.

"One of these days Francis you are going to insult my food, and that pretty little face of yours is not going to save you."

"Ya know jerk face everything the creeper says is true. You cant cook worth shi-crap."

The almost cuss earned Peter a sharp glare from Arthur, which only widened Francis' grin.

"Like you can cook much better, and where did you learn to speak like that!"

Peter quickly pointed towards the door.

"Francis says shit all the time!"

"What!"

"And other words too like bitch and fuck and dic-"

"That will be enough Peter ! Francis you need to watch you fowl French mouth around this boy!"

"Oh Angleterre you're such a mom."

"You'll ruin his mind!"

"Oh shush your cute little mouth, now Peter it is a cake you want non?"

"YESSSSSSSSSSSS !"

"Well then scamper along and I will start making the best cake you've ever had."

"YEAH ! Hey is Alfred home too? He always thinks of the best games!"

Peter quickly dashed out of the kitchen and left the two men alone. Arthur stood behind the Frenchman as he began to clean up the mess Peter made.

"Francis you are going to spoil that boy French."

"Ha-ha very nice play on words William. It is perfectly fine for me to spoil Peter."

"And why is that?"

"He's not mine."

"Well isn't that beautiful logic. I'm pretty sure Tino and Berwald wont appreciate it though."

"Angleterre it's just a cake, and besides shouldn't you be leaving the kitchen?"

"Why would I leave _you_ in _my_ kitchen?"

"Because if you don't go you will have to deal with me in my cooking state."

"I'm scared to ask but what the bloody hell does that mean?"

"I get very, shall I say, excited when I cook."

"Got the hint. Leaving now!"

"Hahaha that's what I thought."

* * *

After leaving the kitchen Arthur had decided to go to his study and finish some paperwork he had left undone for quite sometime. He had been upstairs for a decent amount of time before the sounds of laughter and the smell of French cake tempted him back into the kitchen. When he reached the door he found a surprisingly pleasant site in the kitchen. Francis had his hair pulled back in his usual style, and was wearing the apron he always seemed to have with him. Peter was dancing around the table and both nations were singing some Lady Gaga song. Francis brought a piece of cake over to the boy, and Peter shoved it in his mouth practically before it reached the table. By the look on his face Arthur could tell Francis was enjoying this more then Peter. Not many nations knew it, but Francis had always had a soft spot for children, especially now that Mathew and Callia were grown up. the whole scene struck Arthur as outrageously sweet and had all his words stuck in his throat. _Once you get past the ego and the over large sex drive, he really isn't that bad of a father, is he?_

"Dun cawl m' nom Awh-OH hiya jerf! Wan sum café!"

AS Peter spoke crumbs of the cake he was eating flew across the table. Said crumbs were quickly wiped away by Francis.

"No thanks. I'm fine …. Francis?"

"Oui amour?"

"You… You're …"

Arthur had no clue what had just come over him. This emotion was too new and strange to figure out. The one thing he did know was that he couldn't let Francis know, no that would give the Frenchie to much to work with.

"You've been in my house for an hour and you've already taken over my kitchen."

"Bien! Get used to it because I'm not letting you use it whilst I'm here. I don't think my stomach could handle it."

"What did I tell you about the food cracks!"

Just then, as if the house needed more drama, the door bell rang. Instantly Peter jumped up from the table.

"I'LL GET IT!"

The young boy ran faster then an Italian on retreat to the front door. Soon the two men in the kitchen heard the door open then the shouts of multiple people.

"ALFRED ! And … you."

Francis glanced over at the Brit, looking like the party had just started.

"Oh Bollocks."

* * *

"It's like I don't even know you anymore!"

Opening the front door had proven to be one of the worst things Peter had ever done. As soon as Alfred had walked through the door he had proceeded to lecture Arthur. Listening to the American's rant was sure to drive him over the edge, but Peter was to busy to notice. Currently he was running around the house with Mathew, both dressed in full pirate garb most likely stolen from Arthur's old trunks. Not even Francis, who had gone to take care of his clothes, was there to help him.

"All of a sudden you're showing up late, being possessive over Francis, leaving early, and being pregnant! It's like you're a completely different person!"

"Alfred calm down!"

"What happened to the tea drinking, Frenchie hating, non-American-ass kicking, semi-heroic, cranky Brit I used to know?"

"Alfred I'm still the same! Just … with child."

"You are definitely not the same! Just look at your eyes! They're full of … love ICK !"

"What the hell is your problem!"

"Obviously you had to do … things with Francis for this … situation to be possible. how in the holy golden arches did that happen? Is this a rape baby!"

"NO, don't be stupid. Rape baby, what kind of term is that?"

"An accurate one!'

"Shut up! Francis did not rape me! I guess he's just … I don't know, my weakness."

"But I thought alcohol and men in tight pants were your weaken-OH I get it now!"

"Well I'm glad at least you get it. But don't take it as a reason to start wearing tight pants Amerique."

As he spoke Francis walked down the stairs and into the sitting room. he was quick to take a seat next to Arthur, avoiding the American all together.

"So Alfred, what exactly is surprising that I'm the father of chouchou's baby? After all just look at you and Mathieu."

"Wh-what?"

"Francis! Stop trying to spread that stupid rumor!"

"What rumor! I speak the truth! Just look at the the family resemblance!"

"No you do not! Neither you, nor I gave birth to Alfred or Mathew! WE found them in a field !"

"I think you're lying."

"How could I lie to you! You were with me !"

"IGGY WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME FRANCIS WAS MY FATHER!"

"Eh-Alfred? What's wrong with you!"

"There is passionate French blood running through my veins! It's feeling me up from the inside! I'LL NEVER BE CLEAN!"

Francis wrapped his arm around Arthur's shoulder and shot him a smile.

"This is amusing non?"

"I'm no better then Mathew! Pretty soon my states will start speaking French and try to become separate nations! This means Feliciano's my uncle doesn't it ! I'm going to have urges to retreat soon ! Some one shoot me please !"

Deciding it was time for this to come to an end, Arthur quickly stood up and smacked the American across the face.

"Alfred get a hold of yourself!"

The American quickly quieted and sat whimpering on the couch.

"Now look what you've done Francis, you have somehow managed to warp his mind beyond what it was before."

Arthur's scream however were drowned out by the laughter coming from Francis, Mathew, and Peter. The later two had taken a break from pirating to collapse on the floor in a pile of giggles.

"Iggy, how come you didn't tell me?"

Alfred looked up from his hands to Arthur, with tears in his eyes.

"Because it isn't true!"

"Je ne sais pas Angleterre, just look at Louisiana."

"EEEEEEEEK ! I KNEW IT !"

the American shoot up from the couch and ran over to his brother screaming questions like "Mattie dude, how do you deal with a pervert inside of you!" Arthur was about to go and calm him down again when , as if on cue, his phone began to ring.

"Thanks Francis, you're a real help."

"Je t'aime aussi, go calm your son. I'll get the phone."

Arthur murmured his thanks as he walked over to prevent the end of the world. He got half way across the room before he realized how much of a bad idea it was to let Francis answer your home phone.

* * *

Thank was by far one of the most interesting phone conversations Francis had ever had. It was a close second to the time Antonio had called asking for help with a stuck tomato. Ok so maybe not a close second, but a near second. He had answered the phone with his customary greeting of "Volez-vous couche avec moi ce soir?" This had completely and utterly baffled the English doctor on the other end. The rest of the conversation consisted of Francis reciting semi-lewd pick-up lines and the Doctor asking, almost franticly, where Arthur was. By the end of the phone call Francis was sure the man was mentally scarred, and he had an appointment with Dr. Brown (or Scott as he had just found out) scheduled for today. He then walked back into the living room to see what had changed whilst he had been gone. Alfred was lounging across the couch with McDonald's wrappers in his lap, Arthur was sitting in the chair nearest the American reading the paper, and both Peter and Mathieu were on the floor by the couch. It pleased Francis that between the two of them they had managed to eat all of his cake.

"So you like my cake non?"

"Oui papa. it's one of your best."

"Yeah ! Pretty delicious … for a pervert and what not."

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"This better not be some play to seduce me!"

Francis sat down by the two and ruffled the younger boy's hair.

"Ahh Peter you've seen right through my plan. I just cant control myself when I'm around your extremely attractive body."

"EEWWWWWW PEDO !"

"Francis, if you are done harassing small children would you mind telling me what that phone call was about."

Arthur looked up from the newspaper he had been reading to give Francis his "No bullshit" look.

"Oh mon amour, it was simply your doctor."

"My doctor?"

"Mhmm he should be on one of those call services for lonely women and gay men."

"Francis ! Enough with your day dreams! Now what is this about my doctor?"

"Monsieur Brun from l'hôpital. He said that your visit yesterday ended rather abruptly, and that he would like to see you again."

"Oh blimey, well when does he want to see me?"

Francis quickly looked down at his watch then back at Arthur.

"Correction, see us. He wishes to see us maintenant."

Francis jumped up from his seat on the floor and skipped over to the Brit. He ripped Arthur from the chair and carried him wedding style to the door.

"PUT ME DOWN NOW FROG !"

"Alfred I'm taking your car."

* * *

If Arthur had thought the first trip to the doctor was a pain in the ass, he had been wrong, very wrong. Even without the American telling loud stories, Francis still found ways to make this trip hell. As soon as the Frenchman had walked into the office every living being had become fair game, from the male nurse at the front desk to the middle aged mother sitting with her screaming five-year-old son. Even thought he had managed to quiet the crying boy, the level of flirting Francis was getting away with disgusted Arthur, and even thought he didn't want to admit it he was jealous.

"Francis keep it in your pants."

"Oh I'm sorry chercher. I didn't mean to forget about you."

The Frenchman turned from the blushing woman to kiss Arthur on the lips with passion only suited for the bedroom. The searing heat and crushing pressure that came from the kiss sent thoughts through Arthur's mind that only belonged in the gutter. _Damn-it one bloody kiss and he's got me ready to jump into bed._ Even as he began to struggle under the Frenchman's lips, Francis didn't get the hint to stop until he was pushed away.

"Stop it Francis ! This is not the time or the place!"

"hmm judging by the current state of the bulge in your pants you wish it was though"

Arthur then did the only thing he could thing of, he abandoned all gentlemanly thoughts and flipped Francis off. But instead of the Frenchman looking insulted, his smile only grew as he leaned in towards his ear. Arthur could feel his warm breath ghosting down his neck, which did nothing to calm him down.

"Dearest Arthur to me that gesture, especially when it comes from you, is not an insult but in fact a promise. So you better be willing to follow through and actually fuck me, and make it good."

"Eh-hem ….. well then you must be the man I spoke with on the phone"

Arthur looked up to find Dr. Brown standing in front of them looking like he had just been mentally raped, which was a common expression to find around Francis.

"Umm... yes hello Dr. Brown."

"Please Angleterre, his name is Scott."

Scott … yes. And your name is?"

"Je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy."

"Yeah … well if you could follow me to my office where.."

"Where no one can hear this idiot."

"More or less … yes Mr. Kirkland."

"Le gasp ! I'm hurt, mais I would follow you two anywhere."

"I'm sorry about him doctor, just … ignore him. It's what we all tend to do."

As he spoke Francis reached out and pinched Arthur's ass, which caused a very loud, high pitched squeal to echo through the hallway.

"We'll see if you ignore me now!"

"You horny bastard ! Behave yourself."

"But I am ! I have yet to take my clothes off! That could be changed though."

Scott turned around just in time to see Arthur slap Francis in the face. He instantly opened the first unoccupied room he could find and shoved the pair in before the scene got too public. He sent a reassuring smile to the shocked nurse down the hall before following them into the room.

"Ok so I'm guessing you are the father Mr. Bonnefoy."

"Oui."

"And you would be?"

"you can't guess from that ridiculous accent?"

"République française ready and willing, for anything."

"I said in your pants wanker!"

"Angleterre, considering the reason we are here I don't think I'm a wanker."

Scott became instantly scared of the two men in front of him. _These two, nations or not, need serious mental help._ The only thing that kept him from running out of the room was his duty to inform Arthur. It had been extremely puzzling as to why Arthur was pregnant, but seeing who the father was made it seem less impossible. Francis seemed like the kind of man who could bend the laws of nature.

"Anyways … I was reviewing your results, and your pregnant."

"Will I kinda figured that out."

"I have looked this over several times and I have no reason as to why this happened, or how it's even possible."

"Perhaps it is because I am so fertile."

"Shush Francis !"

"Judging by the child's development in the, for lack of a better term, temporary uterus, I do believe you will go through a normal length pregnancy."

"Did you hear that cher? You have a temporary uterus !"

"Oh bother!"

"Mr. Kirkland ?"

"Oh just ignore his random outbursts. It's what we all tend to do."

Dr. Brown surveyed the couple in front of him, and he had to admit they were pretty fucking weird. Francis had his arm slung around the Brits shoulder, and didn't move it even after a series of sever sounding slaps. Arthur looked like he was about to kill some one (or some nation), but despite the hate that showed on the surface he leaned into the embrace. Any person looking at the pair could tell that under the urges to kill each other, there was a love for each other that ran deep. Their relationship was like poetry, slightly sick, perverted, insane poetry, but poetry none the less.

"I think you two will be fine. I'm not sure if any of our information packets will help, but I'll give them to you anyways. Also on your way out schedule monthly visits so we can keep track of this.

Scott got up and moved to the table to grab the pamphlets as the other two stood to leave.

"No naked exams?"

He turned back to Arthur and handed him the papers.

"You can go now."

"Gladly."

* * *

"You are a pig."

"You're the love of my life."

"Stop saying things like that !"

"Non because if I say them regularly you'll believe me and finish falling in love with me. You're already half way, why stop?"

Arthur knew Francis was kidding, but that was exactly what he was afraid of. _Shit I've already admitted it to myself. _Arthur hurried to the car, and began to lecture Francis as soon as they were both in.

"I have had less traumatizing experiences in all-you-can-eat buffets with Alfred."

"Petit ami I find that very unbelievable."

Just as Francis finished his sentence the song "Shut up and Sleep with Me" began to loudly play from his pocket, disrupting the conversation they had started.

"Ahh my phone is ringing."

"Really now ?"

Shortly after he answered the phone Francis began rapidly speaking in French to whom ever was on the other end. Arthur had picked up some French over the years (mostly so he could figure out what the hell Francis was saying) and what he could make out from the conversation sounded suspiciously like his address, so he chose to ignore it and drive home. As he drove he was praying that Mathew had managed to keep the two ruffians in line and that his house was not burnt down. To his relief , when he pulled into the driveway his house was still fully intact (not counting the window) with a note on the door saying they had left to find Tino and Berwald. Francis walked through the door, shortly after he was done reading, and closed his phone.

"Now that we are alone amour I can seduce you properly."

"Wh-w-what?"

"Ha-ha don't worry. I'm going to start dinner."

"Oh-ok."

"I hoped I didn't let you down though, if you were hoping for sexual activities."

"NO ! Not at all !"

"Humph. Well that's a shame."

The Frenchman then sauntered off to the kitchen and Arthur sat in his favorite chair. Soon after words he drifted off to sleep to the sound of Francis humming La Marseillaise.

(A Short Time Later)

Arthur had no idea how long it had been but he woke up from his nap with a huge craving for tea. He was just about to go into the kitchen and make some when his doorbell rang.

"Bloody hell Francis , how many more people are going to come to my house today!"

"As many as I invite sweety. Have a nice nap?"

"I swear frog if I open the door to find Antonio and Gilbert I will cut their getntlemen veggietables off!"

"Are you sure you can handle all those meters ?"

Arthur walked to the door murmering every curse he could thing of and opened the door. The woman he found infront of him was most certainly not Antonio of Gilbert. She was tall with pale skin, and blue eyes that rivaled Francis' in beauty. her hair draped around her shoulders in curls the color of the sun and her shape enhancing clothers were obiously made by some French designer. She was quite frankly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and looked like what Arthur imagined Francis would look like if he was a woman.

"Bonjour. Êtes-vous Monsieur Kirkland?"

Her accent was think and distinctly French. As she stood there she began to look over every aspect of his person so intensely he felt as if he was naked.

"Claire?"

"Oui."

"Son of a tart ! This day just gets better and better!"

"Daughter of a tart actually."

* * *

Okey dokey so that's that. I had a lot of fun writing Alfred :D it's just so fun to picture him flipping out. OH and Mattie in pirate clothes ... I AM NOT DROOLING ! Anyways... If you would reveiw that would be fabulous ! Those things just make my day :D :D :D

OH YEAH ! There's one thing i forgot to say. Callia is Seychelles. Then name's meaning is beautiful and yeah ... stuff so :D yupps


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 ahoy ! Yep so i finally finished writing thing yay ! Ummm I don't really have much to say besides watch out for the rage of a Spainard, it's mucho scary.

Translations:

Hola-(spanish) Hello

Moi-(french) Me

Angleterre-(french) England

D'accord d'accord mais mon papa m'a invité-(french) Fine fine but my dad invited me

Chérie-(french) Sweetie (more or less)

Au contrair ma fille-(french) On the contrary my daughter

Mais mon amor-(french) But my love

Oui Angleterre pourquoi?-(french) Yes England why?

Le médecin?-(french) the doctor?

Angleterre est enceinte-(french) England is pregnant

Pas du tout!-(french) No way!

Mon meilleur travail non?-(french) My best work no?

Ouais-(french) Yeah!

cher-(french) dear

Je ne sais pas-(french) I don't know

Yeeeeeah that's it OH and sorry for any spelling and gramar mistakes I make haha yeah ... I'm ... horrible :p OH YEAH and the first section starts out in kind of a flash back thingy sorta time traveling ... before the end of the last chapter ... uh huh that was a horrible description, but I think all of you are much much much smarter then me and will get whats going on when you start reading it. Enjoy !

* * *

Songs, poems, and countless other things described love as a soft sweet experience. The joys of love were said to make life cheerful and generally better, but as Francis had come to realize over time, real love was more like being constantly followed by someone who pushed you off a 20 story building every 10 minutes. And even though the collision with the ground practically broke every part of your body, you couldn't help but run to the top of the nearest building. The fall became your driving force in life and pretty soon you began to do crazy things in order to fall again. Like completely ignore your boss and plan to hide in England for 8 months. Or chose to devote those 8 months to taking a certain Englishman with you when you jumped off the edge.

The only problem the esteemed "Country of Love" ran into was that he had no idea how to get past Arthur's stony façade. He was clueless, clueless and making dinner for his biggest problem. He needed help and he needed it fast. Quickly he pulled out his cell phone and called the one person he knew who had some experience with this kind of problem. As the phone dialed he threw dinner on the stove and sat down at the table. Eventually the phone stopped ringing as someone answered.

"Hola?"

"Antonio!"

"Francis?"

"Oui! Ok I need answers, fast!"

"Answers to what?"

"My Questions!"

"What questions?"

"Tonio don't play these games with me just tell me!"

"Ok … umm … whip cream?"

"Whip cream? I don't think that's going to help me with Arthur …. well maybe."

"OH! So he's what you're freaking out about."

"Moi! Freak out! Over love! Pffawh! …. oui."

"Why did you call me? I'm sure there would have been better people to call."

"Well your ass does look very nice in spandex."

"Francis thanks but stay on track."

"Fine. Well I figured you might have some advice, what with Romano and what not."

"Advice?"

"Yeah … about getting people to stop hiding their love …"

"Stop hiding love?"

"Bloody hell Francis, how many people are going to come to my house today!"

"Oh hold on a second Antonio."

Francis quickly dashed to the kitchen doorway and leaned out.

"As many as I invite sweetie. Have a nice nap?"

He didn't wait for an answer and ran back to the table.

"Who was that?"

"Oh it was just Angleterre. He just woke up from his nap and he's a little cranky."

"Oooook … what were we talking about?"

"Getting people to admit they're in love like Romano."

"WHOA! Romano's in love? WITH WHO!"

"Umm. . ."

"Who's fucking my baby Francis! WHO!"

"Antonio calm the hell down! You're supposed to be helping me!"

"SHUT UP BITCH AND TELL ME! SO I CAN BUST THEIR HEAD IN!"

"YOU ANTONIO! HE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU!"

"Oh! Really!"

"Yes really! You didn't know this?"

"Nooooo! I just thought he was sleeping with me for my tomatoes!"

"Why do I come to you for help?"

"This is great news Francis!"

"Yeah, but what about me!"

"Umm run around looking sexy? That shouldn't be too hard for you."

"Well no bu-"

"Son of a tart this day just gets better and better!"

"Francis is everything ok over there?"

"Hmm it seems that I forgot to tell Arthur, Claire was coming over."

"Claire! I love her!"

"Yeah. I think her personality might be a bit too much for him though."

"But she's so much like you!"

"Exactly."

* * *

"Is there any decent explanation as to why you're standing at my bleeding front door!"

"Well I suppose the fact that I was invited isn't good enough."

"No it is not! This is my house and I never invited you."

As he stood in the doorway Arthur thought of new ways to punish Francis. It was just like the frog to invite his doppelganger over, without permission, just to mess with him. And it only took a moment to realize Claire was just like her father, in looks and mannerisms. From the arrogant glint in her bright blue eyes to the way she ever so slightly jutted her hip to the side, she was the spitting image of the damned Frenchie.

"D'accord d'accord mais mon papa m'a invité-"

"English please!"

The sigh she heaved after this comment was all too familiar to Arthur.

"You honestly can't expect me to believe you don't understand French."

"Why would you say that?"

"You're England! You've been messing around with papa for so long it's not even funny."

"Skip over the nonsense please I have a Frenchman to kick out of my kitchen."

"As I was saying, papa invited me here and I was under the impression you were . . . together."

As she finished her sentence a smile crossed her face that was so vile, disgusting, and wicked it could have only been taught by one person.

"Last time I checked I thought he was with Maria. Then again there was Michelle and Stacy, also I could have sworn there was something between him and Antonio, Gilbert too. Not to mention all the people in the intimate pictures he keeps."

"I-ah-wh."

"Hmm well I always knew papa was a bit of a whore, but this looks permanent. That's new."

"Pardon?"

"She meant that she's used to me having multiple people at the same time."

Unbeknownst to the Brit, Francis had snuck up behind him and taken his hand in his.

"She's a temptress herself. I have no idea where she gets it from though."

"Francis you're horrible!"

"Yet you keep your hand in mine."

"Wh-"

"So Claire how is Allen, Emile, and Jacques?"

"Oh I think they'll be fine after some lovely lady comes along and fixes their broken hearts."

"Why did you leave those three in the first place?"

"I meet a gorgeous man in Spain when you took me to visit Uncle Antonio last month."

"Haha well be careful with the Spanish. They look sweet and innocent but they can turn vicious in a second, as I just found out."

"Really now?"

"Wh-"

"Come on in chérie diner should be done by now."

"What'd ya' make?"

"It's a bit out of season, but I know it's your favorite so I made some Cassoulet."

"You really know how to spoil a girl don't you."

And just like that the pair disappeared into the house, leaving Arthur alone at the door. He stood on the step for a good five minutes hoping for a hidden camera crew or something to pop up and start laughing. Unfortunately no such thing happened and he begrudgingly went inside.

"It should be illegal for that man to reproduce."

* * *

"Angleterre it is very impolite to play with your food."

"If you don't eat it now you'll be eating it cold in the morning."

"Don't you two dare treat me like a child!"

So far dinner had been horrible. As predicted Claire was a completely unrestrained flirt, to put it mildly. She used every inch of her person (and by every inch he meant **_every inch_**) in an attempt to get a reaction out of him. And instead of being a responsible parent, or something, Francis just laughed and joined in on her game. It was like a hell full of designer clothes, good food, and perverted blondes.

"I am a grown ma- AND IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY WOULD YOU STOP FLASHING YOUR CLEAVAGE!"

"Aww do you not like it?"

"NO!"

"The sad thing is that I don't think you're lying."

"Au contraire ma fille, it's not sad it just means that I won't be beaten by my daughter."

"Hmm but things are so much more interesting when there is more then one way to swing."

"You! And You! Shut your filthy mouths at my table!"

"Mais mon amor-"

"I'm not sleeping with either of you!"

"Well no one said anything about you sleeping with us, but! As long as we're on that topic, why not?"

"Oui Angleterre pourquoi?"

The two Frenchies turned their soul raping gazes onto the Englishman and began to laugh. By now Arthur was completely appalled by the pair in front of him, and when he spoke he let every bit of his disgust onto his face.

"W-eh"

"Are you going to speak?"

"Yes! First off you turned 18 what? A month ago-"

"Not to mention you're a girl."

"AND your father here has done enough. And I'm still pissed about the doctor's"

"Le médecin?"

"Oui le médecin."

"Pourquoi?"

"Angleterre est enceinte!"

"Pas du tout !"

"Mon meilleur travail non?"

"Ouais!"

"You two are like, like chittering French monkeys!"

"You say French like it's a bad thing."

"Ahh cher, we were speaking of you in the nicest of ways."

It took him a second, but Arthur caught on to what Francis was saying.

"You didn't!"

"I believe I just did."

"That is the second time today you've just gone and blurted that out!"

"They all would have noticed when your cute little tummy began to grow! And it is her half sibling!"

"Cute little tummy?"

"Oui."

"Cute ... little tummy?"

"That's what I said."

"You think my stomach is cute?"

"Sweetie everything about you is cute."

"Really?"

"You guys are so sappy, you should just fuck and get it over with OH WAIT you already have kesesesese."

"P-P-Prussia?"

Francis looked at his daughter, who had burst out laughing at her own joke. The look on his face was genuinely horrified.

"That is the last time I leave you alone with Gilbert."

"You left her alone with that man! What kind of person are you!"

"It was only for ten minutes when I went to the store!"

"The first time you leave our child alone with him the Eiffel tow-"

"What's so wrong with Uncle Gilbert?"

All yelling between the two men stopped as they stared in shock at the seemingly insane girl.

"Francis . . . is she . . . ok?"

"Je ne sais pas."

Francis stood up with a worried expression on his face, and laid a hand across Claire's forehead.

"Honey do you have a fever?"

"Or a mental illness?"

"D'accord d'accord I get it Gilbert's . . ."

"A blithering idiot?"

"Yeah."

"As I was saying, the two of you are totally head over heels."

Rolling his eyes Arthur responded to Claire.

"Yeah the frog wishes."

"Every second of everyday."

"Stop saying things like that."

"They're true."

"Lies!"

"It's so fun to watch you two!"

Suddenly a loud scream, the sound of breaking and glass, and a loud thunk came from the front room.

"Ah-ha-ha! Told ya' Mattie windows totally work as doors !"

"You didn't need to break the other window ! Why didn't use the window you broke yesterday!"

In a span of three seconds Arthur stood up from the table, walked to the kitchen drawer, grabbed a large knife, and strolled out of the kitchen muttering something about '100% all American meat on sale now for a rediculously low price.'

* * *

That was it. So yeah Spain freaks out like the demon child of a sailor and Romano. Yep it's true ! And the All American meat dosn't taste that good DON'T BUY IT ! Hope you enjoyed that silly bit of writing and reveiws would be super duper nice !


	8. Chapter 8

Ok so here's the next chapter ! Sorry its a little lateish ... ive been distracted. Anyways well first off i love all you guys. Second i love all your reviews ! Each and everyone :D

So i dont really have much to say because im sick and ive spent all day editing this and writing and what not instead of my chemestry ... but that dosnt matter ... much.

Translations:

s'il te plait :(french) please

oui, oui je sais :(french) yes yes i know

doux rêves mon lapin :(french) sweet dreams my rabit

So here goes the story, have fun, and remember, I dont own anything. Not Hetalia or Barbie or steak ... i do own Claire though and im decently proud about that.

* * *

In his lifetime Alfred had been in some pretty sticky situations. Like the time he had found himself trapped in Russia six feet underground with nothing but a loofah and a Barbie to aid in his escape. Or the time he had been stranded completely naked in the Pacific Ocean surrounded by oompa loompas (long story), but the predicament he found himself in now was by far one of the worst. Currently he was pinned to the wall of a very proper English parlor with a large knife to his throat. The owner of said knife was none other then his supposed guardian Arthur Kirkland. Around the Brit was a mass of blondes, only two of which he knew, but he was a little too preoccupied to inquire the identity of the third.

"Iggy please, don't make me into steaks!"

"Hmm you suddenly acquire a problem with beef?"

"N-no! Come on don't kill me! You know this is all just a part of my heroic charm!"

"Well lad your 'charm' just smashed two windows in a house that has been around longer then you've been an independent nation!"

With that Arthur brought the knife closer to the American's throat, almost drawing blood. Around him he heard two snickers and a gasp. _Well now I know at least Mattie cares for my well being._ It took all of Alfred's courage to look into his capture's eyes, all of which quickly fled as he gazed into what must have been a small portion of hell.

"Oh my giant chicken nuggets! Please please please don't kill me! I'll do anything! I'll stop eating McDonalds for a month … well a week … ok a day. I'll umm … get those French panties you wanted but were too scared to get by yourself 'cuz you thought Francis would find out and-"

The Knife was only further pressed into his skin.

"Ah-ah ok! I'll do all that _**and**_ fix your windows kay?"

"That's funny. How are you going to fix my windows without a head? Not like you used it much before anyways."

By now Alfred had realized his pleas for life weren't working, so he switched to a tactic he had perfected on Arthur over the years. Tears and sniffles.

"Sniff-sniff, well Arthur. I guess if you hate me this much I should let you kill me. I wouldn't want you to be this unhappy."

This comment seemed to get through Arthur's wall of anger and he released some of the pressure on the knife, but only a little before he went right back to his murderous mode.

"You know Alfred, some one else once said something similar to me once, and I regret ever letting him live."

Arthur looked as if he was about to do something nasty with the knife, when a hand came from behind and grabbed his wrist.

"Ok monsieur pirate time to calm your crazy preggo hormones before you kill some one the world considers important."

"I HAVE NO HORMONES!"

"Yeah sure, and I didn't spend five years dancing at the strip club in London you love."

This comment completely shut down all of Arthur's bodily functions. As he forgot how to breathe the mysterious blonde woman piped in with her two cents.

"This was amusing at first but now it's boring. And besides blood on the carpet is so tacky."

This new stalemate gave Alfred his first chance to get a good look at the new member to their dysfunctional adventures. She appeared to be around the same age as he was (or at least his physical age) and at first glance an untrained eye could almost mistake her for a certain French nation. The only thing that seemed to set them apart was her lack of facial hair and the addition of some pretty dramatic curves.

After a few minutes of observation (complemented by the usual France vs. England arguing in the background) she seemed to notice the eyes staring her down, and sent him a very French wink.

"Arthur! Your manners are terrible for someone who considers themselves a gentleman. Before you kill the hottie with the weird accent you could atleast introduce me."

The knife at Alfred's throat dropped suddenly as Arthur collapsed in exasperation.

"Claire, don't you bloody start again!"

* * *

His family was completely insane, but Mathew had known that for awhile.

Now it seemed that his family had a new, crazy, perverted, vain member, although this was not the first time he had heard of Claire. He had been told stories (by Gilbert) of the times she had tagged along with the odd group of friends his father like to cause trouble with. These stories seemed to involve a lot of alcohol. And police. Claire's part in these rampages seemed to revolve around her innate ability to successfully flirt with everyone in sight and her knack for maximizing all possible trouble. He remembered one story of their week in Berlin had ended in Claire being banned from traveling within Germany with any member of the "Bad Touch Trio". To quote Gilbert she was the 2nd best thing Francis had ever made.

So basically when it came to her free time she was following in her father's footsteps … have mercy on us all.

* * *

Claire surveyed the sitting room she found herself in and tried to choose one word to describe it. She passed over several good terms (like wonderful, sexy, sparkly, hectic, insane, and others) before settling on "dramatique". The last time she had sensed this much tension in a room was in Berlin. Tip for the wise; don't ever get arrested in Berlin, _**ever**_. Not only will you spend the night sleeping on a slab of metal they call a "bed", your brand new Louis Vuitton will be raped. Fricken Germans … but anyways, the knife fight, as one sided as it had been, had been reduced (all thanks to her by the way) to a really awkward staring competition. Arthur was still pissed but that wasn't a surprise (even for some one who had known him for less then a day). The only difference now was that instead of taking his anger out on the surprisingly not fat American, he was staring at her father like he was trying to explode his head with his mind. In response her father was lounging in the chair across from him ogling the Brit like he wanted to rip his clothes off and take Arthur right then and there on the coffee table between them. Claire couldn't help but laugh as she realized how likely it was that that scenario had already happened before.

Looking further around the room she spotted Mathew. The cute, little,adorable Canadian seemed to have given up on the drama and was focusing on the TV. She had to admit he probably had the right idea, but Claire wasn't known for avoiding drama. More likely then not she sought it out, jumped into the middle of it, and thrived on its existence. This probably explained why she couldn't resist tormenting Alfred. Ever since that accent comment, and even a little bit before, he had been watching her. The look he wore when he did this was almost one of questioning. It was kind of creepy the way he was so focused. Each glance that she caught she responded with a semi lude gesture, which just seemed to fluster him more.

"Claire, were you made in Russia?"

"Quoi …?"

"You heard me."

"Non sorry to disappoint you but I was born and raised in France, by the French. Well the French and my English nanny."

"Are you sure?"

"Oui …. why would you ask such a question?"

"Oh no reason … HEY IGGY! IGGY IGGY IGGY!"

With a sigh Arthur took a break from his attempts to explode heads to answer Alfred's yells.

"What do you want now?"

"Why on earth would you want to make a girly Francis clone?"

"W-agh- I didn't have any part in making her! Don't blame me!"

"Hmmm what sick little fantasies you must have in that strange mind of yours."

And thus was the start of the next fight.

So he thought she was a clone? Well it was a cute idea but it couldn't have been any farther from the truth. Claire Renault was a copy of no one.

"Oh Alfred you are such a silly boy, but let me assure you Claire was made with good old fashioned sex. No scientists, no chemicals, and no machines … well at least no cloning machines."

And with that comment from her father the room went silent. Even for Claire this was a bit too much.

"S'il te plaît papa, don't ever talk about sex toys and my mom in the same sentence."

"What? It's not my fault your mom has kinks-"

"STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP!"

"Ok Alfred I do believe it is time for us to leave now."

A very disturbed looking Mathew stood up from the couch and grabbed his brother.

"Well it's just about 7:00 p.m. so I really should be getting back to my hotel. I'll just bring Alfred so you know …. he's still alive tomorrow. Goodnight eh."

Mathew quickly left the room, and eventually the house, dragging his protesting brother with him, leaving the three people left with nothing to do but stare at each other. After a couple of minutes it was Claire who broke the silence.

". . . What kind of kinks . . . ?"

* * *

It had been an extremely long day for Arthur. Some how he had managed to survive Francis' table dancing, the horrific trip to the doctor's, dinner with Claire, and the misunderstanding with Alfred. The one thing he wanted more then anything else right now was to sleep. Sleep and forget the fiasco that had taken place after Mathew ran from the house. After being informed on just exactly what kind of kinks her mother had, Claire had left to go settle her belongings in the guest room. Not to shortly afterwords Francis had left to "catch up on his beauty sleep". Arthur had been in the process of achieving said sleep when he had found some one waiting for him on his bed.

"Why the hell are you on my bed Francis?"

The Frenchman looked up from the Jane Austin novel he had no doubt ably stolen from his side table, and flashed him a very knowing smile.

"Well this is the room I am sleeping in non? And I only see one bed."

Arthur decided to ignore the smile and walk over to his dresser. As he unbuttoned his shirt and looked for a t-shirt to sleep in, he replied.

"I gave in and let you sleep in here, but it will not be on the bed with me."

"Then where am I supposed to sleep?"

Just to mess with Francis and release some of the tension he felt, he cleared his throat and mustered up his worst French accent.

"On ze florr."

Looking through the mirror above his dresser he watched Francis role his eyes. He couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction.

"Arthur I really had thought we had gotten over this nonsense, but whatever you say."

The Brit turned around and watched as Francis grabbed a pillow and blanket from his bed, then walk over and fashion a makeshift bed on the rug. As Arthur climbed into bed he awaited the man on his floor's depature from the room, but ten minutes went by in vain as Arthur waited for Francis to go sleep on the couch. He sat up and looked over the bed to find Francis curled up in a ball with a determined look on his face. _It's all about pride with him. _The frog then looked up and smiled his million watt grin. Giving up the Brit let out a sigh.

"Francis get your pampered ass up here on the bed."

"But I thought you wanted me on the floor."

Arthur glared down at the satisfied looking man on the floor.

"I really don't feel like listening to you complain about your back tomorrow. Now get up here before I change my mind."

As the Frenchman scrambled under the covers Arthur did his best to stay unfazed.

"Now remember frog. No funny business!"

"Oui, oui je sais."

Arthur then settled down and tried to sleep, but with Francis so close that proved to be impossible. He had been laying down for almost an hour, and had only fallen partially asleep when he felt Francis turn over to face him.

"Doux rêves mon lapin."

As a pair of lips gently kissed his forehead he let a small smile grace his features, before he finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

And thats the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoyed the crack ... and the fluff. I guess im in a fluff mood today so thats what ya get. reveiw please if you feel like it :D and cookies for all ... not really because i dont feel like making cookies, but when i do you'll be the first ones to get them


	9. Chapter 9

Hello and welcome to another adition to this crazy Fanfic! First off i want to say how much i love each and evey person who is reading this :D you guys are the best and I've even wrote a little present for you, cept i havent posted that yet but i will ... eventually.

ok time to get some Translations out of the way:

La vache! Vous sentez-vous bien:(french) The cow! (never mind this nonsence) Are you ok?

non je ne suis pas papa:(french) No i'm not dad

Cocotte:(french) darling or casserole , i'll let you pick which one

A bientot:(french) see you soon

Tres amusante:(french) very funny

Je t'aime aussi:(french) I love you too

Au revoir:(french) goodbye

D'accord d'accord je suis reveille!:(french) Ok ok I'm awake!

That should be it ... besides the horribly pronounced English but i can't even really read that and i wrote it.

Ok so this chapter isn't really as cracky as the past ones BUT i know a lot of you are going to like the ending ;-) Ok im going to stop spoiling things and just tell you to beware Gilbert and drunk French accents. Yupps :D

* * *

Arthur couldn't remember how many times in the last week he had found himself leaning over the toilet, but he knew it was a lot. This morning was no exception all be it the first time in awhile he was alone. Every other morning he had Francis to kneel with him, rubbing his back and calmly chattering in his silly language. But this morning the Frenchman had left after Arthur complained about his strange cravings. Getting sick of the floor Arthur tried to stand up only to be brought back to his knees with another wave of sickness. After the nausea passed he collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, all of his energy long gone. _What a wonderful way to spend the morning. _Arthur had been curled up on the bathmat for atleast five minutes when he heard footsteps walking down the hall towards him. The door swung open with a soft swish and not too long after a loud gasp resonated through the room.

"La vache! Vous sentez-vous bien?"

"Ugh. It's about bloody time you got here Francis! Where the hell were you?"

"Ahh … non je ne suis pas papa. Is my voice really that manly?"

Acting on pure instinct Claire wet a wash cloth, sat down on the rug, pulled his head into her lap, and began to wipe the sweat off his brow.

"No Claire you don't. Your father just sounds like a girl when he's scared."

Claire laughed in agreement as she threw the cloth back into the sink.

"That he does."

The next few minutes Arthur spent relaxing in her lap as Claire stroked his hair. With his eyes closed he could almost imagine she was Francis, especially when she started cooing French.

"You are so much like your father."

"Yeah I know. I've always thought it funny considering we've only known each other for two years and maman is nothing like papa."

Sitting up the Brit chuckled.

"Your father's personality is … distinctive so I'm not surprised you take after his more obvious characteristics. Although you seemed to have inherited his nurturing side too."

"You know I've never really seen papa as the nurturing type, more like a horny party boy with weird ass friends."

Arthur made a sort of grunting noise in agreement before answering back.

"Francis most certainly is that, but it's not the only thing he is. Do you remember Mathew from the other day?"

"Umm… I think so?"

"… well when he was growing up he would get frightened by anything. Noises, bunnies, wind you name it, I remember the countless number of times Francis would spend all night with him during storms, the gallons of tears he dried after fixing 'boo-boos', even the time the man jumped into a nearly frozen river to get Mathew's bear. There is nothing he wouldn't do for the boy, and you too for that matter, even… go to war …"

Claire watched the Brit's face seemingly turn to stone What ever memory he was recalling she needed to push it from his mind again.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yes you! Some one had to coddle you over the years, why not the man who knocked you up?"

Old memories flew through Arthur's mind. Nights spent catching fireflies with the frog when they were young. The times he spent crying in Francis' arms after his brothers had been particularly vicious, and the times they had spent together in the New World. From his days as a part of the Roman Empire, when he had first meet Francis, a good portion of his memories included the Frenchman. There had been enough fights to fill several books, but in the end they had always ended up back together in some way, shape, or form. This thought put a lot of things in perspective for Arthur.

"He… he's always been there."

Clearing his throat the Englishman looked up from the floor to Claire.

"Speaking of Francis, where is your father?"

"Oh! He stormed out of the house insanely blabbering on about cucumbers and soy sauce right before I came up here."

With a sheepish smile on his face Arthur looked into the girl's eyes.

"Do you think you could call him and tell him he doesn't need to get me cucumbers and soy sauce?"

Rising to her feet, Claire shrugged her shoulders.

"Ehh if you want it then he can get it."

"But I don't want that anymore …."

"Then what do you want?"

"An omelet"

"Well that sounds normal enough."

"With blueberries … and rainbow sprinkles."

Claire started laughing so hard she actually had to use the sink to stay standing. Eventually she calmed down enough to talk, much to the delight of the very embarrassed Arthur.

"Well it just so happened I have blueberries. I'm not so sure about the sprinkles."

Taking the hand Claire offered, Arthur stood up and followed the giggling girl to the kitchen.

* * *

The next four weeks seemed to fly by Arthur before he even realized they had started. It seemed that Claire had just arrived to tart up his house when he found himself sitting in the airport waiting for her flight home to board. And when he said tart he meant it in the nicest way possible. He could never really say anything bad about the young lady he had grown to love so much.

The last month had taught him so much about the two people staying with him he hadn't previously known. In contrast with her "trouble making teen" image Claire actually was extremely sweet. She had been studying to become a fashion designer for quite some time, and most of the seemingly name brand clothes she had were of her design. But the most shocking discovery by far was the fact that she shared his passion for embroidery. When it came to Francis, Arthur had never seen him happier then the times he had spent with his daughter. Together they had been a duo of bliss, and much to his surprise he had shared in their happiness. But the weird thing was despite the Frenchman's friendliness when they were together with Claire he had seemed distant when they were alone. Most of the day when he wasn't arguing with his boss (who was properly pissed at him) Francis spent the majority of his time staring off into space. He seemed like he was planning something… which probably meant he was. In fact the only time he had ever gotten close to him was during the night.

Every night when Francis had thought he was asleep the Frenchman had pulled him into his arms. His normal reaction, especially when it came to Francis, would be to yell, but somehow things seemed to have changed between them. Call it motherly habits, Arthur had begun to think of them as a family, and the times they had spent together had been some of his most cherished memories. _Sigh … this baby is going to be the end of my reputation._ Still reminiscing Arthur was jolted from his thoughts when he felt a tap on shoulder.

"Cocotte? Claire has to get to her gate now. Are you coming with us?"

Arthur nodded his head as he stood up, and then followed the two through the terminal. As he joined in on their banter he realized he was going to miss Claire a lot more then he had originally thought. Eventually they reached the security gate and Claire began her goodbyes to her father. Surprisingly she managed to squeeze words between hugs.

"A bientôt papa! Best of luck with the baby, and even more with its mother."

"Ahaha très amusante Claire. Je t'aime, now go before you miss your flight!"

"Je t'aime aussi papa!"

Claire then began to walk, no strut towards the line going through security, toting her matching luggage behind her.

"Don't forget to buy roses for your maman for me! It's her birthday tomorrow!"

"I won't forget papa! Not after last time."

And that's when reality hit Arthur in the face. _I'm not part of her life am I…._The sudden realization slightly depressed Arthur until he saw Claire running back with a huge smile on her face. When he noticed this Arthur called out.

"What did you forget this time?"

"You!"

When she reached Arthur, Claire enveloped him in her arms then planted a kiss on his cheek. Smiling into his eyes Claire let a laugh roll off her tongue.

"Au revoir maman."

"B-bye poppet."

For the last time Claire strode off and joined the line, immediately flirting with the young business man in front of her. Arthur hardly noticed Francis take his right hand and led them out of the terminal. He was still focusing on what had just happened.

"She called me her mum…"

Francis couldn't help but laugh as he watched the Brit stroke his cheek with a bewildered look plastered on his face.

"She did, didn't she? Well that's interesting. I guess she has just grown to love you and your surprisingly feminine charms."

The whole airport froze as they heard what sounded like some one being slapped with a two-by-four (which really was just a hand) and the loud cry of pain that followed.

* * *

Life had always been strange to Francis, and it amused him to no end just how weird it got. Not many people could say they sought advice from a Spaniard, two trannies, and a drunk albino in a bar, and even fewer could consider this a normal part of their life.

This "normal" night had started on the way home from the airport. As Arthur drove though the streets of London he had received a call from Gilbert. Apparently the Prussian had called to tell him how "The awesomeness that is the awesome Gilbert had come to London along with Antonio to pay him a most awesome visit."

Translation: He had stolen Ludwig's BMW, kidnapped Antonio from Romano, and then drove to England to get drunk with him.

Not that Francis minded this (if he needed anything it was a night out) but Ludwig had called Interpol on Gilbert and Romano probably had the Mafia searching all of Europe for Toni. It had taken quite some time to sort out the mess when the police had pulled up in front of Arthur's house in hot pursuit or the albino, but eventually they had ended up at the bar.

Now Francis found himself slowly drinking through his problems while Gilbert drank himself silly. It wasn't too long before Stacy and Michelle found their way over to the section of the bar they had taken over. Sometimes he swore they lived here, but he was far too concerned with his thoughts to flirt. The last month had been interesting when it came to Arthur. He wasn't sure if the Brit knew it, but everyday he grew more motherly. Not just in shape but in mindset too. The day he had seen the small bulge of a stomach Arthur now had, the finality of the situation had hit. And now he doubted if he could be the father the child and Arthur deserved.

"Mi amigo are you ok?"

Antonio had been watching Francis for awhile now, and he had just ignored a ravishingly good looking woman who had done practically everything besides take her shirt off to get his attention. This could only mean two things, either Francis was a zombie only pretending to be alive so that later he could eat their brains, or something was seriously bumming out the frenchie.

"Non … well yeah."

Leaning in to keep to conversation private…ish, Antonio tried to help his friend.

"Go ahead just say it. If I have to sit hear and watch you sulk any longer I'm going to kill a tomato."

Realizing just how serious his friend was, Francis just let it all out.

"I don't know if I can do this. I feel like I've been a bachelor far too long to be the parent they need."

"Ohh come on Francis, you're a wonderful father! Just look at your other kid ya know… that guy… and Claire!"

"They were different! Both them were either grown up when I discovered them or they were the 2nd biggest nation in the world!"

Stepping in on the conversation Stacey sent a disappointed look at Francis.

"What a load of bullshit Francis. Am I right Michelle?"

"Hun, I haven't heard anything that made up since Gilly-boy told me about Prussia."

Obviously offended Gilbert jumped down from the bar, which he had just claimed as his.

"HEY! Prussia is too real!"

"What ever you say."

"You know what? Imma gonna forget about you, ya purse swinging heathen! Now what the hell's wrong with Francis?"

Sighing most dramatically Francis set down his glass and turned to his audience.

"L'amour is a strange thing mes amis. One day it gives me a stubborn, hard headed, quick tempered, angry little man and the next it gives me a gender confused mother with a sweet tooth for romance. I'm not sure what to do and it would be nice to have more advice then whip cream and looking sexy."

Timidly grinning at Francis, Antonio answered back.

"Sorry about that… you kinda distracted me with the whole Romano thing…"

"You freaked out and started swearing at me!"

Interrupting as usual, Gilbert slammed his mug onto the bar, and then turned to smirk at his two friends.

"Well let me tell you Franny, if Artie is anything like Mattie I'm sure you'll find several options … _wide open_."

"Gilbert please don't."

"What! I cant help if the lil' sexy monkey inherited your sex drive!"

Instantaneously the two dissolved into an argument, both trying to get Antonio to join their side of the fight. Looking slightly amused, the twins stood back and watched the argument until the bar tender sent them threatening looks. Turning to her sister Stacey launched their conversation.

"Wow… would you look at these idiots."

"Yeah they do sound pretty stupid. I guess that's what love does to you."

"Well if don't step in now they'll end up killing each other."

Looking back at the bartender Michelle flinched when she meet the fire in his eyes,

"And then Paul's going to kill us."

"Agreed."

With a brief nod of their heads both girls stepped in to resolve the situation. Grabbing him by the shoulders Stacey turned Gilbert around to face her, pushing him back onto the stool he was no longer sitting in.

"Now Gilly. I love a good sex story as much as the next girl, but would you mind keeping your mind off your "five meters" before it falls off."

Taking the Prussian's gaping mouth as her cue Michelle moved to circle around Antonio. Once she captured his attention she leaned forward and stared straight into his eyes.

"Boy, I've seen your cute little piece of Italian ass before and I have three words for you."

There was a brief pause for dramatic purposes.

"Get a ring."

Then in unison the girls turned to Francis and stood on either side of his stool. They booth smirked down at the Frenchman, but it was Michelle who spoke first, with her sister joining shortly afterwards.

"Poor, poor Francis. Now you've got your work cut out for you."

"Oh I have no doubt Arthur has feelings for you, I mean not many people would go through us just to get to you."

"But it'll take awhile to teach his mind what his heart already knows."

"What do you have, seven months?"

"That's plenty of time for a man as talented as you Francis."

"We would know."

Finally hearing sound advice, even if it was masked in perversion gave Francis and inkling of hope.

"I feel stupid for asking, but what exactly am I supposed to do?"

Glad to see the smile slowly returning to the Frenchman's eyes, Stacey responded with a smile.

"You stay with him."

"Remind him every chance you get what you love about him."

"And what he loves about you."

"Chances are you've already been doing this."

Arm in arm the twins shared a mischievous grin before turning back to Francis to start the grand finale.

"Then you do what you do best lover boy."

"When you go home tonight you love that Brit so hard he walks funny for the rest of the week!"

And with that the bar erupted into cheers. Apparently the entire bar had become audience to the spectacle that was the twins. His good humor now restored Francis laughed as the twins curtsied to the crowd, who only yelled louder. _There's another thing. _Francis thought to himself as he listened to Gilbert shout an order for a round for the house. _Most people wouldn't consider two flamboyant transvestites turning your sex life into a public show a good thing._ But Francis just shrugged as downed what ever Antonio had just shoved into his hands. _It was all in fun._

* * *

The house was quiet, too quiet. Not that Arthur minded, its just that his house hadn't been this quiet in ages. He supposed this had something to do with the fact that Claire was back home and Francis had gone out with his friends. Of coarse he hadn't been allowed to leave until after the police were taken care of. _How did Gilbert manage to get in trouble with the police __**before**__ they went out?_ In hind sight he realized that it probably had been a sign of the night to come.

It was past midnight when Arthur really began to worry about Francis, and the later it got the worse his anxiety grew. _I'd bet my hat that they all wound up in jail… again._ He had just gotten up to phone the police department when someone knocked on his front door. Quickly he strode towards the door hoping to find Francis on the other side, and he did. Except instead of seeing the usual arrogantly smiling, confident, conscious Frenchman he found a drunk, mostly passed out Francis draped across Antonio's arms.

"Hello?"

"Hola mi amigo!"

"Umm… Francis?"

"Oh! Yeah! He's … a little … ya know …"

"What the hell did you three do this time?"

Arthur almost regretted asking when the Spaniard erupted into an explosion of words.

"Ok well you see we were at the bar with Michelle and Stacey and we started drinking in the babies honor, well I didn't because I'm designated driver for the night, but don't get me wrong I would of loved too but I couldn't of coarse ya know cuz you're not supposed to drive drunk-"

"JUST GET TO THE POINT!"

"I was …. anyways! Gilbert ended up challenging Francis to a drinking contest to see who could drink more. Gilbert was winning for awhile until they decided to switch drinks and boy let me tell you Gilbo can not handle his wine, but I didn't know Francis could drink beer like that did you teach him ? Oh right stick to the point! Well then they started drinking vodka and it all just went down hill from there. Gilberts actually is passed out in the back seat of the car. I'm not even really sure if he's alive."

Arthur couldn't help but wonder if Antonio was as sober as he claimed to be. Gesturing inside, he opened the door wider for the Spaniard.

"Just…uh. Just set him on the couch. Do you want anything? Tea? Biscuit?"

"No thanks. I really should drop Gilbo off at Luddy's house then get back home before Romano shoots me."

"It's just about 3am are you sure you want to go all the way back to Germany?"

Somehow managing to shrug his shoulders and keep a hold of Francis, Antonio just walked inside.

"Well it's either Berlin or Toronto."

"Toronto … as in Toronto Canada?"

Deciding it was best to just ignore the question the Spaniard just flashed Arthur a smile then attempted to shake Francis awake.

"Hey francey-wancey-honey-buns I brought you home."

"Nghmf."

"Sweetums~"

"Shshgfmz."

"FRANCIS!"

"D'accord d'accord je suis reveille!"

With his head dangling above the floor Francis surveyed the room, trying to figure out exactly where he was. It took a bit, but eventually he spotted Arthur watching him a few feet away. Even though the upper half of his body was upside down it did nothing to diminish the effects of his cavalier smile.

"Bonsoir ma chére! And 'ow are you doeen on zis fine-hic-night?"

Sadly the booze had done nothing to improve his accent.

"Oh I'm fine but you've gone all to cock."

"Ohohohohohohohoh woodn't you-hic-leik-hic-zat."

Arthur looked up at the very confused Antonio rolling his eyes.

"Antonio forget the couch just drop him on the floor and go take Gilbert home."

"Ok!"

With a loud thump Francis crashed to the floor and the Spaniard ran to the door.

"Adiós!"

As the door slammed behind him Arthur just watched the inebriated man trying to pull himself off the floor… and fail.

"Owww zat 'urt."

"Well maybe you'll think about that the next time you get aled up."

Francis had managed to stand up and take two steps before collapsing in a bout of laughter and drunkenness.

"Like you can-hic-talk."

"Come on get your sorry arse off the floor."

"I 'ave been tryeeng for aw'ile now-hic-mais tu n'aide pas moi-hic"

"Oh shut it."

Reaching down Arthur hauled Francis off the floor. Swinging the Frenchman's arm over his shoulder he started to walk towards the stairs.

"From now on when ever you're drunk stick to French. Your accent makes my ears bleed."

As they passed by the couch Francis pulled both of them down onto the cushions in an unexpected burst of agility. Without warning Arthur found himself pinned to the couch by a very animated Francis.

"Get off me you blithering idiot!"

"Ehhh-hic- I don't zink I will."

As he said this Francis' right hand began to travel downwards, teasing the buttons of the Brit's shirt.

"Francis you're drunk."

"veree"

"You just tackled me onto the couch."

"Oui and eet was fun."

He then shifted his weight and straddled the Brit, successfully freeing both hands to be used however he wanted.

"Why?"

"Maybe eet is because your mere presence intoxicates me."

"That would be the wine."

"Or perhaps eet is ze way your emerald green eyes glare zair way through all my adulations."

"I do not glare!"

"For all I know eet might be ze endless challenge your stubborn mind gives me everee day."

With every reason he gave Francis had unbuttoned a section of the Brit's shirt. Without much thought he undid the last button and slid the fabric completely off. Marveling in the beauty of the exposed flesh Francis left his hands free to roam Arthur's chest. Leaning forwards to trail kisses across Arthur's collar bone, Francis whispered just loud enough to be heard.

"But most likely eet is because I am too een love with you to quit whilst I am ahead."

"Fra-"

Before Arthur could finish speaking Francis closed the distance between their mouths. All thought were lost as their lips tangled in a passionate battle for dominance. Inside his chest it felt as if a fire was burning uncontrollably. Throwing caution to the wind Arthur gave in to his primal instincts and let emotion rule over logic for the first time in awhile. Fisting his hands into golden locks Arthur pulled Francis closer, increasing the pressure of the kiss tenfold. The flames raging inside the Brit were only stoked higher as a hand found it's way below his waste line. Arching into the embrace with a loud moan, Arthur left his neck exposed for Francis to ravish. An opportunity he took head on. All too soon Arthur felt Francis left his head from his throat, and then remove his hands from his body. With one fluid movement the Frenchman got up from the couch and stood looking over the Brit.

"Francis what are you doing?"

"Shhh."

Gracefully sliding his arms under Arthur, Francis lifted him off the sofa and carried him back towards the stairs. With his head buried into the Brit's hair Francis answered back, all traces of the drunken slur gone.

"Starting now there is only one word I want to hear coming from your mouth."

"And what exactly is that."

"My name."

* * *

Now is the time to let your imagination roam free ... yeah i would have loved to expand on that but a certain some one (you know who you are) reminded me (with a fork) that this is rated T... then when i tried to change it they reminded me again ... with the fork.

Okey dokey thats for rading this :D comments are vereeee much aprechiated. I am sorry if the silly frenchness was hard to read ... yeah ... and umm ... Rainbow sprinkles for all.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10! Whoa double digits ! Freaky ! Ok confesion time ... I am not really sure if I like all of this chapter. Bits yes, all ... anyways ! After this im posting another story yay!

Translations:

Mon dieu: (french) My god! (Think OMG)

Le poisson: (french) the fish!

C'est Merveilleux: (french) This is marvelous

Petite Angleterre: (french) Little England

Je t'aime:(french) I love you

Te amo:(spanish) I love you

Ich liebe dich:(german) I love you

Ti amo:(italian) I love you

Jetaimeaussi:(super rushed english-ified french) I love you too

Hej:(swedish) hello - i think this is right , but im not sure.

And there we go :D have funzzzz

* * *

Arthur lazily opened his eyes and glanced over at the green glow on his bedside table.

His digital clock said it was 4:26 am, but to him the moment felt timeless. Wrapped in the warmth of Francis' arms the world seemed to stop, and nothing really mattered anymore. Laying down under the covers with Francis made him feel like … like he belonged. Gazing up at his lover he relished in the contentment radiating from the sleeping Frenchman. _Asleep he looks so peaceful, so relaxed, so … beautiful._

Deep in sleep the French born man rested peacefully on his down pillow , a small smile on his face and his hair spread around him. Arthur reached up to gently brush away a stray strand that had fallen between their faces. He still remembered when these golden tresses had been his greatest object of envy. Of coarse it never really had been just the hair he had wanted. His feelings had always been directed more towards the whole package.

Without realizing it Arthur moved his hand from Francis' hair to trace the sleeping man's face, starting with his nose then moving on to his mouth. He wondered what had caused the perfectly symmetrical lips to fix themselves into that grin. He quickly withdrew his finger when he caught himself hoping he had put the smile on the blonde man's face. I_t's not just the sex anymore._ Leaning his head forward he kissed the cheek Francis wasn't laying on. After he had settled himself back onto his pillow, the Brit closed his eyes and let out and exasperated huff.

"Arthur you bloody fool. You've gone and fallen in love."

* * *

"Bloody. Fuck. No!"

"Arthur such language is not becoming of a gentleman like yourself."

"Kiss my ass you surrender monkey !"

Letting out a loud groan Francis set his coffee down onto the table and resisted the urge to slam his head off the wooden surface. Arthur had been like this all morning.

"You are going to need new clothes."

Sneering at the Frenchman, Arthur practically spit venom with his words.

"I refuse to let you shop for maternity clothes with me!"

"We have been arguing for over two hours now!"

"And I'll keep arguing for the next six months if I have to !"

And that is when Francis' forereach met it's new friend, Mr. Kitchen table. The latest tantrum had started that morning shortly after Arthur had woken up. Following his morning shower Arthur had attempted to get dressed, only to find that none of his slacks fit. This immediately put the Brit in a fowl mood, along with the twenty minute search for pants that fit. In the end the only pants Arthur had that fit over his stomach was a pair, most likely from the 70's, Francis liked to call "The porno sweats." Yeah they were that bad. Needless to say this had taken Arthur's mood from fowl to horrendous.

But now as the Brit screamed at him Francis figured that his five minute laughing fit hadn't helped. _Well what is a man supposed to do when he walks into his bedroom to find a man yelling at a pair of pants? He sounded like Ludwig on drill day._ Lifting his head slowly from the table Francis glared at the Brit.

"Mon dieu ! Would you stop your yelling ! You are driving me insane!"

"Well I jolly well hope so!"

"Just listen to me Arthur! In another week or two not even your porn star pants are going to fit-"

"I will kick you in the balls!"

"-so unless you plan on running around naked-"

"I will cut all your hair off!"

"-you're going to need clothes, and seeing as I'm the only one in the house who knows how to dress-"

"THE DAY I LET A FROG DRESS ME IS THE DAY I JOIN MOTHER BLEEDING RUSSIA!"

"You know speaking of Russia, I met this lovely up and coming designer in Moscow. I wonder if Vlad would come to London if I sent Louis' jet-"

Francis was going to finish his sentence until he was interrupted by Arthur slapping him in the face with a piece of buttered toast.

"Hahaha take that frog!"

With his pride slightly wounded Francis wiped his face and stood up. Now eye to eye with his vicious assailant Francis gave up.

"Ok that's it. Nap time."

Calmly reaching forward Francis threw Arthur over his shoulder and walked out of the kitchen, towards the stairs.

"Put me down!"

"Non."

"Put me down NOW!"

"Non."

Greatly enraged at being treated like a sack, Arthur began to beat his fists against the Frenchman's back.

"I am not a child to be carted off to naptime!"

"Well you sure throw temper tantrums like one."

"You take that back wanker!"

"Chéri, Lovino throws less of a fit when Antonio tries to get in the bath with him."

"Well that's because Lovino is a whor-OH! Francis did you feel that!"

All of Arthur attacks abruptly came to a stop, and he laid on Francis' shoulder silently.

"Feel what petit ami?"

"Quick put me down on the step!"

When he was situated on one of the stairs Arthur clutched his stomach and started breathing in deep breaths. Instantly Francis' mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion.

"Le poisson ! Arthur are you ok! Do you need to get to the hospital now! Arthur tell me what's wrong!"

Instead of answering the Brit grabbed Francis by the wrists and pressed both his hands against his stomach.

"Could you shut it for a bit Francis!"

"Yeah sure…why exactly are yo-OH!"

"Did you feel it!"

"Oui the bébé it kicked!"

"Yes it did."

"C'est merveilleux!"

With a huge grin on his face Francis looked up at his lover, his joy skyrocketing until they caught each others gazes. To his surprise there was a steady stream of tears running down the Brit's face.

"Cocotte what's wrong?"

"Nothing-sniff-I've just got something in my-sniff-eye."

But even as he said this he burst into full blown wails.

"Oh everything's wrong Francis! I'm too fat to fit in my pants, every five minutes I have a ridiculous mood swing, I'm yelling at you for no reason ! Not to mention I think I'm growing milk glands ! Boobs Francis ! Boobs! I thought I was a man, not a pubescent teenage girl! I'm not even sure what to be sure of nowadays!"

In and effort to stop the crying Francis pulled Arthur onto his lap. Cradling the man as he rocked back and forth, he did his best to console him.

"Shh-shh-shh petite angleterre. Everything is fine. Be sure of me."

Reaching a hand up to wipe away tears, Francis continued on.

"I'm always going to be here. And it would take nothing short of a … of a giant fire breathing dragon to stop me. And even then that wouldn't be able to pry me away from you."

With his tears reigned in again, Arthur responded to the Frenchman.

"What about a hotel suite with two Ukrainian women?"

Francis couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Non, not even that. For what are vast tracks of land compared to my love for you?"

"Francis?"

"Arthur how many times, and in how many languages do I have to say it before you get it?"

"I - I don't know…"

"That's it I'm going to say it one more time."

"Franci-"

"I love you. Je t'aime. Te amo. Ich liebe dich. Ti amo. Do I have to keep going?"

Letting go of the Briton, Francis just stared off into space.

"A-are you serious Francis?"

"Dead serious. I love you more then anything Arthur."

This time it was Arthur who seized the other in his arms.

"Je t…anmmm"

"Arthur?"

"Je ….."

"Sweetie I can't understand you."

"… Jetaimeaussi! There I don't want to say it again!"

Roaring with laughter Francis affectionately kissed the Brit on the lips.

"I suppose that's the closest I'll ever get with you non?"

* * *

It had been an extremely long day for Dr. Scott Brown, and he had a feeling it was about to get worse. Pacing across his office Scott looked down at the ultrasound images in his hand. He had been analyzing them for the last hour just to make sure his speculation was right. Plopping down in his chair he tossed the file onto his desk.

"Explaining this is not going to be fun."

Times like these really made him question his choice of work. When he had started work in the maternity ward he had thought that he could handle pregnant women. But then life (and the Government) had thrown Arthur at him. The Brit only seemed to have two moods. Normal cranky and French overload induced horribly cranky. Unfortunately for Scott this meant that before each appointment he had to spend 30 minutes hiding all his potentially dangerous objects. His nurses thought he was crazy when he asked them to keep his Q-tips in their desks, but he was pretty sure that the murder of France in his examination room would cause some international issues.

Scott's problems weren't just Arthur's fault thought, The French nation had proved to be more then a handful to deal with. There were no words to describe the Frenchman, he was far to … individual to be characterized correctly. Over the last two months Scott had learned the true meaning of innuendo and several other things in French he had never wanted to know. Together the pair had become his worst nightmare, quite literally. His wife had threatened to kick him out on to the couch if he woke up screaming "Get you hands off my ass you bloody frog!" one more time.

Looking back at the file on his desk, Dr. Brown shuddered a bit.

"If I call them France will be a giant crater by morning."

Leaning onto his desk Scott ran his hands through his hair. Letting out a sigh he reached for the phone on his desk. Gathering all his courage he dialed the number of the Kirkland residence. Making sure to note the time (just incase the police used him as a witness in the murder investigation) he pressed the call button.

"For Queen and country."

* * *

*Ring*Ring*Ring*

He heard the phone ringing, but the last thing Berwald wanted to do at 11:00pm was answer it. Rolling over in bed he stared at the small man next to him.

"T'no co'ld y' ?"

"No."

"Pl'se."

"No."

*Ring*Ring*Ring*

Sighing the Swede reached for the phone. _One night of sleep is all I ask for. One night!_ After a couple seconds of blind searching he finally clasped his hand around the phone.

"Hej."

"Bonjour mon ami! I have the best of news!"

"Fr'ncis?"

"Of coarse it is me! Who else would call at this time of night?"

"… M'thi's?"

"Antonio? Since when does our favorite Dane call you late and night?"

"Fr'ncis 'm n't-"

"Antonio news!"

"Fr'ncis-"

"Toni!"

"Fr'ncis!"

"TWINS!"

"Wh't …?"

"Twins Toni! Twins! Cheré Angleterre is pregnant with twins!"

"W'll isn't that … n'ce?"

"Toni ... you sound a bit odd."

Berwald couldn't help but slap his forehead.

"Y'u id'ot ! 'm n't Sp'in!"

"Mon dieu !Berwald!"

"Y's! Wh't t'pped y' 'ff? Th' 'ccent?"

"Oh ! Je suis désolé! I must have hit the wrong number when I speed dialed Antonio!"

"Wh' am I 'n y'r sp'd di'l?"

"I … don't know .. .well I should call the real Antonio before Arthur finished shredding my clothes and comes after me with the scissors!"

"Sc'ssors?"

"Ouais. It's what he does when he can't drink. Luv ya bye!"

The tell tale buzz of a finished call rang in Berwald's ear as he took a moment to figure out what had just happened. With no logical explanation in sight he threw the phone across the room, just in case Francis called back. Very confused and very scared Berwald attempted to go back to sleep.

"I hate your friends Berwald."

"Th're n't m' fri'nds!"

* * *

Ok the end of that chapter :D Sorry if Berwald is hard to understand ... you can blame ... me and Swedish accents.

Anyways thanks for reading and I would love some reveiws :D


	11. Chapter 11

Yes I know i took forever to update this, but instead of listing all the things that kept me from doing this (which is quite a lot btw) I'll just say I;m sorry. Happy? Anyways this is Chapter 11 ! Yes I did just cheer for myself ... anyways there is some other languages in this, mostly Russian which i have no idea at all how to speak/write. Guess who used a translator. Anyways as always correct me if I'm wrong and no I don't own Hetalia.

Translations:

bonjour mon coeur- (french) Hello/ Good morning my heart

Привет (Privet)- (russian) hello

да (da)- (russia) yes

Нет (Nyet)- (russian) no

tourterelle des bois- (french) turtle dove

О нет, никогда (O net, nikogda)- (russian) Oh no, never

Америка (amerika)- (russian) America

Товарищ (tovarishch)- (russian) comrade

Отлично! (otlichno!)- (russian) Fine!

And just to let you know Provideniya is a small town in Russia, but i figured since it does have ski slopes and a movie theater, and has a decent tourist population Ivan would be weird enough to go there on his day off. Yupp.

* * *

Sunlight streamed through the curtains and shone directly at Arthur's closed eyes, successfully waking the man from his slumber. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he enjoyed the soft chirping melody radiating from the bird filled tree outside. Unusually cheerful and remarkably un-nauseated he rolled over to greet the smiling face he had grown to expect in the mornings. Francis had acquired the strange habit of waking up early just to watch him while he slept. He had grown far to used to being greeted in the morning with a smile and a kiss on the forehead, so when he discovered his bed empty save for himself he was slightly alarmed. The moment now shattered, he sleepily wandered towards the door, his now protruding stomach adding a slight waddle to his stride.

Walking down the hallway he made it to the top of the stairs before he heard two men's voices floating through the house. He recognized the familiar lit of Francis' exasperatingly French voice, but he couldn't figure out who the second person was. And for another matter the language they were speaking in was puzzling him. _It most certainly isn't English or French for that matter. It sounds almost Russi…Oh dear lord no!_

Taking the steps as quickly as he dared Arthur stormed downstairs and began searching for the two men, all the while preparing to face his worst nightmare. Charging into the sitting room he fully expected to find Ivan hiding in a corner being creepy and was taken by surprise when he found not the tall platinum blonde, but in fact a small platform and several reams of fabric. Across from the entrance to the room was a portable divider and as the light of the room shone on it he could see the silhouette of two people behind it. Clearing his throat rather loudly, Arthur made his presence known to the two males.

Francis stepped out from the barrier with a smile on his face, blue silk draped over his left arm, and measuring tape around his neck. Accompanying the Frenchman was another man, tall and slender in stature. His face which towered well above Francis' was embellished with pale blue eyes. Dark wave less locks which framed his face brushed against his cheeks as he nodded his head, silently agreeing with what ever Francis was rambling on about. Stopping by a group of chairs they had created to the side of the room, Francis laid the silk down with other fabrics draped over the furniture, and looked up at Arthur.

"Ahh bonjour mon coeur! I thought I heard you stomping around the house. How did you sleep?"

Arthur ignored Francis' obvious ploy to distract him from what was at hand and dove straight to the heart of the matter. Jerking his head in the direction of the stranger he purposefully looked Francis in the eye.

"Who is this man and why is he in my sitting room speaking Russian!"

Matching Arthur's stern expression with an amused smile Francis simply chuckled before turning back to the silk.

"If I told you then you would know. Now be a good little lapin and hop up onto the stand."

"Why you little basta-"

"Allow me to introduce myself."

Stepping forward the Russian elegantly bowed and brought Arthur's right hand to his lips in one fluid movement.

"Привет my name is Vladimir Novikov. You are well on this fine afternoon да?"

"I'm just fine … thank you…"

Removing his hand from Vlad's grip, an expression of shock mixed with mild disgust on his face, he turned back to Francis who was now sketching something on a pad of paper.

"Francis this isn't the Vladimir you spoke of the other day is it? The one you met in-"

"Moscow last year? Oui he is the very same. He also is going to be my helper today."

"Help-helping with what?"

Both men began stepping towards Arthur, who began walking backwards in reaction. Unbeknownst to him, they soon had him maneuvered exactly where they wanted him. Arthur saw no escape in sight seeing as the two blocked his path forward and behind his stood the platform they had spoken of earlier.

"I am honored, for today I get to assist a long standing deity of the fashion industry."

"Vlad mon ami, you are too kind."

"Нет. You are simply too demure."

With well practiced modesty Francis giggled into his hand, while still advancing on Arthur along side the Russian.

"What ever you say tourterelle des bois."

For Arthur this was the beginning of the end.

* * *

It was a breezy spring afternoon in Washington D.C. Children could be seen running along side the Reflecting pool, soon followed by amused parents. The bright Saturday sunshine warmed couples sitting on park benches sharing lunch together, and tourists as they strode to each place of interest, happily chatting with each other and snapping photos as they went. Pedestrians walking down Pennsylvania Avenue glanced up as they passed the White House, marveling in the perfectly straight columns and the tranquil garden around the flowing fountain. From the outside it appeared to be a paragon of serenity, but inside it was anything but calm.

An extremely observant passerby would have noticed a tall blonde man rapidly pacing by one of the windows, yelling into a cell phone. With each angry step the cowlick on his head twitched as if it was furious as well.

"How the hell am I supposed to deal with this!"

"You could just ignore it?"

"Ignore it! How can you ignore a four month pregnant Englishman with the emotional span of a ferocious bear! Every time I so much as talk to him he starts yelling!"

"Perhaps it is because you call him late at night. Or the fact that the last time he saw you, you jumped through two of his windows да?"

"I had perfectly legitimate reasons for that! Stay on task Ivan! They're having twins!"

"Well that's nice."

"NO IT IS NOT NICE!"

Wandering over to the bookcase Alfred kicked it as hard as he could, a decision he soon regretted. His foot now throbbing, Alfred cursed under his breath.

"Alfred don't you think you're over reacting a little bit?"

"NO I AM NOT! I NEVER OVER REACT! EVER!"

"О нет, никогда."

"The worst part is I heard it from Mattie! Apparently Francis called _him_ the day after they found out, but _I _had to wait a week to hear it second hand."

"Maybe they forgot about you. I bet they are extremely busy, what with the babies and Francis' … hobby."

While they had been conversing Alfred had managed to calm down enough to sit down in a chair, but with Ivan's comment he jumped to his feet again. The side table next to the chair shook with the force of his movement, the assortment of knick-knacks on the surface falling to the floor as he screamed into the phone.

"SHUT UP YA FREAKIN' COMMIE! NO ONE FORGETS A HERO LIKE ME! THAT'S WHAT MATTIES FOR!"

"Alfred calm down! Stop screaming at me!"

"ALRIGHT! I WILL!"

Bending over to hastily pick up his mess before his boss could yell at him, Alfred huffed out the rest of his frustrations.

"Why am I even talking to you? I don't want to deal with your Soviet…ness"

"Alfred it was you who called me да? And I haven't been a Soviet since 1991."

"Once a commie, always a commie. It's a fact of life Ruskie."

"I'll ignore you… for now."

"Don't ignore me! Listen to me!"

"I have been Америка, for the last hour. All you do is repeat yourself. Why did you even call me?"

"I don't know…I guess I just feel comfortable yelling at you."

Walking over to one of the windows in the room he locked out at the city. As he watched the people on the street his stomach protested in hunger, and he realized he hadn't eaten in over three hours.

"Jeeze, all this shouting and walking and stomping and ignoring my boss and skipping meetings has made me really hungry. I need a hamburger."

"You always need a hamburger."

He reached into his pockets for his wallet only to find both empty of anything.

"Shit I left my wallet at home. Come buy me some food."

"Товарищ, I'm in Provideniya."

"So?"

"This is my week off! I'm not going to run around the globe buying fast food."

"Dude Provideniya is so boring! It's just some random Russian town and besides! That's ridiculously close to Alaska!"

"Alfred it would take me longer to get to D.C then it would for you to go home and get your wallet."

"By home I mean New Mexico…"

"Still I'm not going to-"

"IVAN GET RUSSIAN ASS OVER HERE AND BUY ME FOOD! NOW!"

"Отлично! I'll try and get a flight! But you owe me!"

Plopping down onto the nearest piece of furniture Alfred smiled into the phone as he imagined the expression the Russian was wearing.

"Good, and hurry up grumpy puss. I'm not getting any less hungry."

* * *

Surveying himself in the mirror, Arthur decided he seriously needed to rethink his life choices. As he turned himself from side-to-side Arthur watched as the fabric of his new tunic-thing float around his waist. He had to admit it was properly made, but Francis and Vladimir hadn't even tried to tone down the femininity. The outfit the impetuous Frenchman had stuck him in today consisted of some sort of pleated spring green fabric that covered one shoulder and left the other, and a great deal of his chest and back bare. He had also forced him to wear a set of black knee length tights that clung extremely tight to his legs.

He walked from the looking glass to the closet to get something else, but thanks to Francis it was full of equally girlish clothes. Upon opening the door he was confronted with pale yellows, baby blues, light grays, and soft mauves, together in a flowing , rufflely group, all traces of his old clothes gone. Slamming the door in defeat he slowly marched downstairs. _Why did I let them do this? _Finally making it to the first floor he found Francis in the kitchen making who-knows-what on the stove. Turning round to investigate the shuffling, Francis found Arthur standing in the kitchen with a slightly provocative pout on his face.

"Simply stunning chéri. You look beautiful."

Recognizing the lecherous grin on Francis' face, and the dangerous glint in his eye, Arthur reached his boiling point. Walking over to the man he reached out and slapped him as hard as he could.

"You disgusting frog! Why do you always do this! You take every opportunity to get people in drag!"

Reaching out to smack his again, just for fun, Arthur suddenly found his arm trapped in the clutch of the Frenchman. Using the force of the Brit's swing against him, Francis pulled Arthur towards him, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he turned him around.

"Got your belly!"

"I will kill you!"

Nuzzling his face into the base of Arthur's neck, Francis happily chuckled.

"Mmm I have no doubt you will. Now tell me petit amour, what has made you so angry with me today?"

"Are you really that thick or do you just like to wind me up?"

"Ohoh I love to wind you, just play my little game d'accord?"

Sighing angrily, Arthur continued on.

"Well it might have been this ridiculous dress you've shoved me in! Or maybe it's the tights you gave me with it!"

"Now, now don't get snippy with me. We both know it isn't a dress, and I think it's very becoming on you."

"Becoming?"

"Hmmm yes."

Shifting his head, Francis began to nibble on Arthur's earlobe.

"I find it extremely sexy. The pants frame your ass nicely."

When he felt Francis' teeth make contact with his ear, Arthur jumped out of surprise.

"Stop it! My ear is not food!"

"Arthur calm down, you are like a skittish filly."

Lifting his head from Arthur's shoulder, Francis smiled down at Arthur's extruding stomach, rubbing his hands over it in large circles.

"You are going to frighten the children."

"Oh I think they'll be fine as long as they survive you."

"What exactly are you trying to say cocotte?"

"Our children will grow up to be perverts thanks to you."

"Well if the little darlings are anything like you , we'll have two years olds telling people to go fuck themselves."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Do you see what I mean?"

Just then there was a knock on the front door. With a sigh Francis let go of the Briton and walked towards the door. Looking back at Arthur he motioned towards the stove.

"Do you think you could watch the sauce, don't touch it, just watch."

Leaving the kitchen to a chorus of angry mumbles, he walked to the front room to find the door already open and Gilbert standing in front of it with a strange look in his eye. Cautiously approaching the man Francis walked up next to him.

"Gilbert mon ami! How are you today?"

"Oh I'm just awesome! How's my favorite sexaholic!"

"I'm… peachy, how exactly did you get in?"

"Gilbird can pick locks with his mind! DUH!"

Said bird sat on top of Gilbert's head. Upon hearing his name he stared down at Francis, almost as if it was sorry, and flew away to perch on the coat stand.

"Oh… oui I forgot. Is there a particular reason why you came?"

"I have… wait for it!"

With each word the albino's eyes grew larger as he stared at Francis. Gilbert's expression was really starting to frighten him. It seemed like five minutes before Gilbert decided to finish his sentence.

"… something amazing to tell you!"

"Really now?"

"YEAH! Ok so it all started when West kicked me out of the house because Feli came over. I'm not sure why he does that every time, probably because he's scared his sex noises aren't as awesome as mine!"

"I'm sure that's exactly the reason why."

"Shut up! You're interrupting my story! Ok so after I left the house I wandered most epically across Europe. So there I was in some Romanian bar in the middle of a bar fight. I found myself on top of the bar punching some guy and right when my fist connected with his jaw, a thought popped into my head and I thought "HA Franny would find this funny." So I traveled here to London, city of …. tea! And now I shall tell you what I thought!"

"Ok go right ahead."

"I will, just hold on!"

With the agility of a drunken lemur, Gilbert hopped though the doorway next to them, into the living room. As soon as his feet hit the ground he jumped over to the couch, ripping off the cushions in a vigorous search for some mystery item. When he didn't find what he wanted in the couch he moved onto the other furniture in the room, leaving destruction in his wake.

"Gilbo… what are you doing?"

"Searching for that English bastard!"

"You're looking for Arthur… under the footstool?"

"Well I already checked the closet, but I guess he finally came out KESESESE!"

Flying off the floor and over to the window, the frantic man nearly ripped the curtains off as he searched behind them.

"Gil… where were you before you got here?"

"Oh I stopped in Holland and ate some candy. BEST CANDY EVER!"

"Oui… I could tell… Arthur come in here!"

Gilbert suddenly looked over at his friend with an insane look in his eye, causing Francis to back away to the door and wait for Arthur. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long before the Brit stomped into the room.

"What the hell is going on! Would you care to explain why I hear all this crashing and shouting?"

"Gilbert!"

Hand shaking slightly, Francis pointed and the albino, who was sifting through knitting patterns.

"Did somebody just say my awesome name!'

"Why the bloody hell are you in my house!"

"I came here to do something awesome!"

Standing up from the floor, Gilbert ran over to the pair in the doorway.

"Nice dress eyebrows! That color really brings out your eyes!"

Face instantly reddening with rage, Arthur seethed at the Prussian.

"Get out of my house, now!"

"Nein! I need to tell Francis something funny!"

"Then tell him!"

"I needed you here first!"

"Well I'm here now!"

"I forgot!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FORGOT!"

"I JUST DID OK!"

Now nose-to-nose, the two were screaming at each other.

"I AM IN NO CONDITION TO PUT UP WITH YOU!"

"WE GET IT! YOU'RE PREGNANT BITCH, DEAL WITH IT!"

Arthur and Gilbert soon started growling at each other and looked like they were about to get physically violent, and indeed they were until Gilbert suddenly collapse on the ground. Standing behind where he had been previously was Francis, brandishing a desk lamp like a club over the knocked out albino. The Frenchman looked as if one wrong look would cause him to burst into hysterical tears.

"Francis did you just…"

"I panicked ok! I didn't mean to hit him that hard, it's just that he was screaming and you were screaming and I didn't know what to do, and he was going to hit you and-"

"Francis calm down!"

"Ok!"

Stepping across the man's body Arthur took Francis in his arms. After five minutes he let go and examined the Frenchman. Satisfied that he had regained his stability, Arthur turned his attention to the Prussian.

"What are we supposed to do with the blithering idiot now?"

Joining in Arthur's examination of the albino, Francis kneeled down next to him and sighed.

"Anytime now, Luddy's Gilbert senses will start tingling and he'll come and get him. For now we can eat."

With that the Frenchman stood back up, took Arthur's hand in his, and walked back into the kitchen.

"Some friend you are frog."

"I consider this payback for the time he tied me naked to Antonio's bed."

"I would have figured you would like that."

"I did … until Gilbert told Romano."

Involuntarily slapping his forehead, Arthur stared at the Frenchman.

"That's it. No more friends for you."

* * *

You're probably sitting there thinking "Wow that was a random ending" , but no it's not. Just wait untill chapter 12.  
I think we all no Ludwig has Gilbert senses and yeah Francis totally speaks Russian, he's been allied with Ivan for forever so of coarse he does :p  
I hoped you enjoyed it, and as always I love reveiws :D


	12. Chapter 12

Hiya everbody ! Well here's chapter 12 and like allways I hope you like it. I'm sorry this was up so late. It would have been up sooner, but (as some of you may know) fanfiction was spazzing and wouldn't let me update any of my stories :p

Translations

Dieu merci - (french) thank god

Batard- (french) bastard

Aschloch- (german) Asshole

Ja- (german) yes/yeah

mon petit autrichienne- (french) my little austrian

Ok so that's it for the translations, there really isn't much it this chapter. Did you know that depending on the woman, when they are pregnant they either are completly against having sex OR they can turn into complete animals. Yeah that's your warning for this chapter :p

* * *

There were many times when Francis greatly admired his strange albino friend. The pure strength and confidence that radiated from the Prussian when he stood ready for battle, whether it be on the actual battle field of just at the door of some new bar was breath taking. Gilbert had a way of thinking, acting, and living that only permitted the winning outcome, no matter the situation. His assurance of his actions was exhilarating if a bit arrogant. To sum the man up in one word, Gilbert was awesome.

However, today was not one of those times. There was nothing he could find glorious in a man sleeping on a couch, especially one who was surrounded by empty peanut butter jars. Francis had no idea when Gilbert had woken up during the night, or where he had found five jars of peanut butter, but he did know that the hooker sitting in the chair needed to go. She had been there the entire time Francis had been in the room, giving him "the look" and he didn't want to risk her being there when Arthur came downstairs. Luckily his life with Gilbert had prepared him for situations like this.

Sighing to himself he walked over to her chair, all the while searching for his wallet.

"Here you go chéri and … thank you for your services…"

Taking the fairly large sum of money he had handed over the woman looked up at Francis, clearly insulted.

"Wha' do ya think I am mister! Some sorta hooka'?"

As soon as the words left her mouth Francis did a double take. The woman in question was obviously bottle blonde, and sporting lime green short-shorts and a dark mesh shirt over a red bra. She also had gone to a complete stranger's house and spent the night with some random man, then accepted money from another man the morning after. _Did she really just say that?_

"Well seeing as you are dressed like … that and you came with Gilbert…"

"So you're saying that because I came home with that man I'm a hooker?"

"… Yes."

"Why you-ugh! I am an exotic dancer!"

Jumping up from the chair she slapped Francis across the face then flounced out of the room.

"This is why I never date Italians! You're so rude!"

Rubbing his now bright red cheek, he shouted after the retreating woman.

"Like you can talk sugarplum! AND I'M FRENCH!"

As the front door slammed Francis turned around sharply to face his friend.

"Italian am I! HA! I'm an exotic dancer nah-nah-nah-nah!"

The hand which had been previously been flapping like little mouths dropped down to the Frenchman's sides as he stared down at his friend. Crouching down he stuck his face right next to the sleeping man's.

"You bâtard. Only you could make me question my love of strippers. Maybe I will put you on the front steps like Arthur suggested."

When Gilbert showed no signs of awakening his mood only worsened.

"The least you could do is insult me back! Wake up lazy!"

Thankfully the phone began to ring, successfully distracting him from his yelling.

"Dieu merci! Please let that be Ludwig."

* * *

"Non not Ludwig! Of course not that would be too easy!"

Slamming the phone back onto the receiver, Francis tried to grasp the thin shreds of control he had left. From the time he had woken up he had been irritable, but now he felt like he was about to explode. It was strange for him to be angry for no reason, he was always within reason. _Arthur's the one who rages unexpectedly! Not me!_ Angrily he stormed over to the sink and viciously began washing the dishes whilst he searched for a reason to his temper. It might have been the fact Arthur had tossed and turned all night, or that he had been forced to make a cheese and ranch taco with a side dish of Nutella at 3am. _Or maybe it was because I was yelled at, then cried on when the taco lacked garlic!_ With each thought he added another reason to the growing pile of causes. Gilbert and his "exotic dancer" had added the whip cream to the proverbial "sundae" and Ludwig had just topped it with the cherry.

The ever insightful German had known his bastard of a brother had managed to get himself in trouble and he had just assumed Gilbert would make his way to him. _Because of course all the drunks come to me! _Ludwig, being the good little brother he was, had immediately made arrangements to come and get his brother, but to quote the man he had "become unexpectedly held up in Venice." So he had decided to send Roderick in his stead. Roderick!

"Curse you Feli and your cute ass!"

Now Francis had nothing against the Austrian. To him there was nothing wrong with an old fashioned, aristocratic, snobbish, pompous, prude who spent more time chastising others and making love to his piano then he did living in the current century. And he was completely amiable with the fact that this scrutinizing man was come to the house of the man he had impregnated. _It is sure to be great fun, and it will only get better when Gilbert decides to wake his lazy ass up!_ With a sneer he forcefully placed a plate into the drying rack, and then dunked his hands back into the soapy water.

It wasn't so much that he hated the Austrian, in fact he happened to have immense respect for the man, and found him to be outrageously attractive. What bothered him the most was that Roderick's years with a seemingly innocent Italian whore, a closet sadist German, an obnoxious Prussian, and a homophilic Hungarian had bled him dry of any shock value. This meant that all his attempts of "seduction" would not only earn him a rather painful slap, but an hour long lecture/concert as well. Finishing the last of the dishes, Francis drained the sink and wiped his wet hands on the nearest towel. His mood still unimproved he leaned on the counter and glared out the window.

"This is going to be the most boring afternoon ever."

"Well maybe I can make it a bit more exciting."

Slightly startled from the sudden noise, Francis turned on the balls of his feet to confront the man behind him.

"And how exactly are you-"

The sight he found before his eyes left the Frenchman completely speechless. Leaning up against the door frame was an extremely uncharacteristically seductive Arthur. The navy blue lingerie he had chosen to wear was trimmed in dainty lace, and left his arousal painfully noticeable.

"Hey there sexy."

"Arthur…"

With a quick provocative chuckle the Brit strutted into the room. When he reached Francis he pressed himself as close to the Frenchman as possible, making sure to lightly close the mouth that had been left open in shock.

"Francis darling, don't leave your mouth wide open. It gives me ideas."

"What are … you…doing?"

Sliding his hands up the Frenchman's chest to the top of his collar, Arthur undid each button on his shirt until Francis' chest was left uncovered and prime for exploration.

"I heard your little temper tantrum from upstairs so I decided to come down and… cheer you up."

Starting from the base of Francis' neck, Arthur let his mouth kiss it's way to the corner of Francis' mouth as his hands left his chest and traveled south.

"Wh-why now?"

"Why not now?"

"I really don't think we should-"

"I've been having cravings only _you _can satisfy. I want your hands all over my body."

By now Francis was clutching onto the counter for support. With each movement of Arthur's hands it took more and more strength to keep his knees from buckling.

"Co-cocotte I think some one might have switched our personalities last night."

"Well if so I don't want to switch back. It feels amazing to be in control for once."

Lifting his hands up again Arthur pulled at Francis' shirt until it fluttered to the floor.

"Gilbert's still on the couch in the other room."

"I couldn't care less about the bloody bastard right now."

"Ro-roderick is coming over to take him home. We should probably st-straighten up the house."

Arthur couldn't help but laugh every time Francis stumbled over his words. He simply loved the fact he could make this well seasoned, sexually accomplished man crumble with one touch. With a provocative giggle he began to loosen the Frenchman's belt.

"You have to make a mess first before you can clean one."

A muted thud and soft tinkling of metal hitting tile rung through the room as Francis' pants fell to the floor, taking with them all his will to protest.

"How big of a mess do you have in mind?"

Within an instant Francis found himself pressed further against the counter, moaning as fingers found there way under his waistband and teeth nipped at his lower lip.

"You are too much for me to handle."

"Damn right I am."

At the exact same moment Francis' legs gave out Arthur claimed his mouth, and together they fell to the kitchen floor in a fit of passion.

* * *

Whenever Roderick found himself alone or with a surplus of idle time, he often occupied himself with contemplating the current state of the world. And as he drove through the streets of London that is exactly what he did. On this trip he had decided that the world was rather disturbing when one thought about it.

Today's society was wrapped in a web of glorified alcoholism, immense materialism, and intentional adultery. Of course this wasn't much different from the society of his favored past and if these were the only problems then Roderick really wouldn't have cared, but they weren't. Even though the people of today had stuck to many of their cultural habits they had decided to mess with their music, and that really pissed him off. One could not walk down the street without hearing some loud excuse for music blasting from some stereo, ready to burst the eardrums of some unprepared listener.

Call him old fashioned, but he missed the old days where music came from the hands of musical protégés and their pianofortes, not the youth and their turntables. He longed for the time where a man didn't have to worry about finding a stash of gay porn under their love interest's bed and drunks were left in the gutters to die, not waiting for a ride home. Now he may be a bit biased, but distorted viewpoint aside he saw no reason why _he_ should have to travel cross-continent to fetch Gilbert. Ludwig was perfectly capable of obtaining his brother, he was just too preoccupied with thinking with his little head at the moment. Then again, with Ludwig paying for the entire trip it wasn't that much pf a hassle for him…

Pulling into the front gates of the Kirkland estate Roderick sighed to himself. _Time to focus._ Turning the key he shut the rental car off, unbuckled, and stepped out from the car. _If I stay on task I should be in and out of here with Gilbert in minutes._ He wasn't looking forward to the trip home with the Prussian monster, but he tried to keep his mind off that. _Just one more week and the idiot will be out of Europe. Why Mathew wants him in his country I don't know, but I don't care as long as he's gone._

Reaching the front door he curtly knocked and waited patiently to be let inside. It wasn't too long before the door was answered, but not by the calm, sensible Englishman he had been expecting, or even the leering Frenchman he knew was in the house. Rather it was thrown open by a hysterical Gilbert.

"Oh mein gott! What took you so long? We really need to leave now Wes- wait a minute you're not West!"

"Thank you for noticing Gilbert."

The Prussian took a moment to stare blankly at Roderick before a smile spread across his face and he chuckled to himself.

"Well this certainly changes things. Come on inside Roddy!"

"Weren't you just trying to leave?"

"What? Pffft no! You're crazy Roddykins, now come inside."

"I most certainly will not. We need to leave now before Arthur becomes too bothered with your presence."

"Kesese. Trust me he doesn't even realize I'm here right now. Or anything else besides Francis for that matter."

"What?"

"Oh never mind!"

Reaching out and grabbing the Austrian's arm, Gilbert pulled the man inside and shut the front door.

"I woke up a few minutes ago to the sound of Arthur in the kitchen! Who knows what he's doing in there as we speak!"

Instantly recognizing the danger of the situation Roderick rushed after Gilbert as he ran through the house. Arthur and the kitchen were never a good mix. When he reached a closed wooden door the Prussian stepped to the side and waved Roderick forward.

"They're in here!"

"They?"

"Arthur! And … whatever monsters he has created."

"Ja…"

Wary of what he might find on the other side he gingerly opened the door and peaked through the opening. What he found was far worse then any burnt English creation. The mass of tangled naked bodies on the floor was more mind-scarring then any scone, and was sure to require plenty of mind bleach later. At first glance it almost looked like one of the more violent fights Francis and Arthur were prone to, but then you remembered they were naked and certain… appendages were in certain… crevices. The longer he stood there the redder his face got, and the louder Gilbert's laughter became. Finally Roderick snapped out of his shock induced coma enough to speak.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

Looking up from each other for the first time, Francis and Arthur noticed their audience. A loud gasp was heard as Arthur scrambled to the other side of the room, grabbing Francis' shirt on the way in an attempt to cover his nudity. Francis on the other hand winked at their guests, looking perfectly comfortable with the fact he was naked for all to see.

"What the bloody hell are you doing! Are you daft? Get out!"

"I came here to take Gilbert home. Couldn't you two have waited until after he was gone?"

"Non not really."

Propping himself up on his elbow Francis faced the Austrian and blew him a kiss.

"Ahh merci beaucoup for fixing Arthur. You seem to have scared him back into his normal behavior."

"Fixing him? You were… the floor… doing… and… kitchen!"

"Oh mon petit autrichienne it is nothing to be ashamed of. L'amour is part of life."

"The kitchen!"

"It most certainly isn't the first time, or the strangest spot. I remember this one time-"

From his spot in the corner Arthur barked at Francis.

"If you don't shut your mouth frog-"

"-we were upside down in-"

"Dude shut up!"

Finished with his laughing fit, Gilbert marched into the kitchen.

"Only Eliza, and the tranny twins want to hear those stories."

"Don't forget Claire."

"Eww you tell her those stories? No wonder her mom kept her away from you."

"I would never tell her those stories! She manages to find enough of her own on the internet."

Making his way to a chair Gilbert picked up Francis' pants off the floor and threw them at the Frenchman. Shaking his head he sat down.

"You … Frenchies. Whatever dude, put your pants on. I'm sick of staring at your dick."

"Why are you looking Gilbert? Like what you see?"

"Oh you know I do, but if you hit me with a lamp again I will mount it on my wall."

Arthur and Roderick, both of which had been stuck silently watching this, looked at each other from across the room. Roderick, deciding it would be best just to let them finish, went back to watching. Arthur on the other hand wasn't ready to be quiet yet.

"You two are disgusting."

"Oh like you've never thought about Franny like that Mr. Fuck-me-on-the-floor! He may not be quite as awesome as my five meters, but he's close. Ask Roddy he can compare between the two of us."

Responding to the comment with a short lapse of dignity Roderick threw his shoe at the back of the Prussian's head.

"OWW! Arschloch! I've got a huge bruise there! It fuckin' hurts!"

Roderick, calm and collected once again, straightened his cravat before addressing the sort of dressed Francis.

"You really hit him over the head with a lamp?"

"Oui. Of course I did. He was threatening mon lapin."

"I seem to have underestimated your usefulness Francis."

Still rubbing the back of his head, Gilbert shouted from his chair.

"Bros before hoes dude!"

"Call me a whore one more time and I'll finish what I bloody started last night!"

All his rage bubbling to the surface, Arthur stood up to confront Gilbert. Unfourtunatly he forgot to hold on to the shirt, which promptly fell to the floor and was soon followed by a chorus of cat calls.

"God damn you two! I've had enough"

In a storm of white cotton and blushing red flesh Arthur left the room.

"Hey Artie! Your stomach's looking ready to burst, how did ya fit into that thong?"

Halting his retreat, Arthur looked back over his shoulder at the crowd of people in his kitchen.

"Francis, get used to the couch because you won't be sleeping in the bed for awhile."

Starting his exit once more, Arthur left Francis to sit on the floor gaping as he walked away. A few seconds passed before Francis jumped up from the floor.

"Mon dieu! See what you do Gilbert!"

He then rushed from the room, making sure to smack the cackling Prussian on the head as he ran bye. For the next few minutes Roderick stood by the door, watching Gilbert laugh at the tension he had just created.

"Kesese those two fight like the old geezers they are. I swear Roddy I have never found anything as hilarious as the two of them going at it."

As he continued to watch the lunatic laughing in the chair, Roderick's irritation swelled to levels that rivaled Arthur's previous outburst. Silently containing the anger within him, he walked over to the Prussian and swiftly grabbed his ear. With little effort he began to drag Gilbert out of the room, and soon the house.

"Gahh! Let me go Roddy!"

"No. I will not even think about letting you go until we reach German soil. Now would you please-"

"Let go!"

Within an instant the control over his emotions he had worked to maintain slipped away. With one quick yet strong yank on his ear he had the Prussian on his knees.

"SHUT UP OR I WILL MAKE YOU SHUT UP!"

"….Ja!"

Much to the Austrian's satisfaction, not a single word was uttered throughout the rest of the trip.

* * *

Do you know how hard it is to explain to your dad why you're typing "Dude put some pants on I'm sick of staring at your dick." ? It's a good think we share a sense of humor.

Well that's it ! Reveiw if you feel like it and stay tuned for 13 :D


	13. Chapter 13

Horray the new chapter ! So yepp this took my slightly forever to update... yeah I went to Quebec and I didn't feel like writing/coming home so thats why. I didn't help that a certain person *cough*gilbo*cough* STOLE MY FRICKEN NOTEBOOKS ! I can't write without them :'(

Translations:

Salut- (French) Hi

Nom de Dieu- (French) Godamnit

глупый -(Russian) silly

Нет- (Russian) No

дорогой- (Russian) darling

Русский язык- (Russian) Russian... as in the language

Mignon- (French) sorta the equivalent of poppet

Que pense-tu mon chéri? -(French) What do you think darling?

Désolé- (French) sorry

Allons-y ma petite Elizabeth - (French) Let's go my little Elizabeth

amoureux- (French) sweetie

mots d'amour -(French) words of love

A couple of things you might need to know, First Aussie "winters" are more like summers on the sun. 120 degrees (Fahrenheit) at Christmans time! Second, Her Royal Magesty Queen Elizabeth the Second is the current Queen of the UK. Gaul was ancient France (Luxembourg, Belgium, Holland, Switzerland, and bits of Germany and North Italy as well, but forget that for a bit). And lastly Anne Boleyn grew up in France, married King Henry the Eighth, and gave birth to Her Magest Queen Elizabeth the First who later sunk the Spanish Armada.  
Can you tell I'm studying for my AP World History Final?

Ok enough with that nonsence and now for the part you guys reallly want

* * *

"Do I need to tie you to a chair?"

Slamming his hands down on the counter Dr. Scott Brown stared at the Frenchman smirking in front of him.

"Non I don't think you need to."

"By all means Scott, go ahead and do it anyways. The bloody frog deserves it."

Shaking his head Scott averted his attention from the couple to the file in his hands. It had been a long, long five months since he had first met these two, and it was safe to say that appointments with Francis and Arthur never went smoothly. In fact very rarely did they ever end normaly. With a well earned smirk Scott looked back at Arthur.

"Now Arthur we all know if I even tried to touch Francis you would be after my head."

"I would…! W-why… meh!"

Laughing a bit at the now blushing man he wondered how these appointments had mutated into some weird form of couples counseling. On a "normal" day Arthur would typically storm in shouting about something Francis had done wrong, like he expected him to condone Francis. Scott would do his best to listen and after a small bout of one-sided physical violence he would attempt to calm them down. Somehow through all of this they had managed to form some strange bond of mutual friendship, or atleast an acquaintance strong enough for Scott to feel comfortable making jokes about their relationship.

Today's rant had been some jumbled nonsense about kitchens, blue thongs, and a man named Gilbert. He had listened to the story for fifteen minutes and he hadn't been able to make heads not tales of the ordeal. The only thing he had learned from it was that who ever Roderick was he deserved a medal for his trouble.

"Aww Artiecakes you are so adorable."

"Bloody what did you just say?"

"…Artiecakes."

"Call me that again and I will twist your body in ways it's not supposed to go."

Propping his chin on one hand Francis leaned forward and winked at Scott.

"Sounds like a fun night non? Care to join Monsieur Brun?"

Speechless, Scoot let out a disgusted sigh and let Arthur deal with the impudent man. _Today is going to be an exceptionally long day._

* * *

_Life, _Arthur decided as he sat idly in his favorite armchair, _Is boring as hell. _

In the past few hours nothing exciting or thought provoking had happened and the rest of the day was sure to be just as fruitless. In desporation Arthur had resorted to throwing crumpled up balls of paper at the ceiling for entertainment, in hopes that cleaning them up would break the monotony of his morning. The fact that this activity gave him no satisfaction only worsened his sour mood. For the last five months he had been cooped up within the same four walls, the highlights of his life consisting of paperwork, meetings, doctor's appointments, and the occasional tea party with the queen, which was no way to live your life. Don't get him wrong, he loved her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, but there was only so many tea cakes a man could take, especially when he was in a dress.

Sure the phone calls from Claire had warmed his heart and Francis' favored form of "entertainment" had kept him on his toes waiting for the next attack, but compared to the urge he had to visit the country side and frolic they were nothing. No matter what Francis said about the lack of masculinity in frolicking, the only thing Arthur truly wanted to do was drive to his country estate and spend weeks roaming the wilderness he had explored as a child. Unfortunately he was under strict orders not to leave London for more then a day or two, orders which Francis seemed all to willing to follow. Every plan he had made, every trip he had planned was instantly shot down by the Frenchman. Just the other day Arthur was forced to bleach his keys because Francis had put them in his undergarments to prevent him from leaving like he had threatened to do so many times. _Stupid frog! I bet he only listens to Doctor Brown because he's tall… and tan…._

Sitting in the chair Arthur let his displeasure grow to massively uncalled for proportions. By the time Francis walked through the door, arms laden with grocery bags he was just about ready to punch some one.

"Salut mon coeur. I'm back."

"Francis!"

Getting to his feet Arthur followed the man through the house to where Francis was putting away the newly purchased food.

"Yes darling?"

"I need to speak to you. Now."

"I'm right here Arthur tell me."

"Put down the crackers and look at me!"

Turning away from the pantry Francis glanced over his shoulder at the nearly furious man standing behind him.

"Well aren't you just cheery. What do you wish to tell me?"

"All we do is argue, have sex, go to the doctor's, argue, have sex, watch as random people stroll into my house, argue some more, and then have more sex! Tell me what kind of life does that sound like to you."

"Sounds like a pretty good one to me."

With a loud stamp of his foot Arthur shouted at his adversary.

"And look where it's gotten us! Pregnant!"

"Not us chéri, just you."

"BLODDY FUCK FRANCIS I AM IN NO MOOD!"

With a soft sigh Francis did his best to repress the anger he felt rising within him. The last couple of days Arthur had been trying on his patience, but they had played this game before. Whenever the Brit was bored he always turned to Francis' temper for entertainment. They only thing Francis needed to do was outlast Arthur and they could continue life without a major altercation. Clearing his head, he put down the box of pasta in his hands and turned round to face Arthur.

"Chouchou calm down. There is no reason to get upset."

"We never do anything Francis ! We just sit around the house, stuck in the city, fucking like rabbits!"

"Arthur I enjoy this no more then you do, but-"

"OH don't even pretend like you don't like having me in one place where you can use me."

Stomping his foot once more, Arthur took a stance resembling that of a pouting toddler.

"Is that really how you think I feel?"

"I don't think about you_ sweetheart_."

The term of endearment slid off Arthur's tongue dripping with enough ice to make the North Pole seem warm. An amount that was more than enough to cause Francis' control to slip.

"I have been a bit preoccupied with the two children inside of me!"

His disposition now ice cold Francis glared at the Englishman.

"Oh so you think I have enjoyed spending the last five months with you! I haven't spent more then two days in my own country in longer then I care to remember!"

Instantly Arthur went silent, allowing Francis to rant unprotected.

"Instead I have here with you! Away from my home, my daughter, my friends, my life! I could have just as easily left you alone to go through all of this, but I didn't! Have I been rewarded for my selflessness? No! I have subjugated to your mood swings which more often then not end in you abusing me both verbally and physically! Does this sound like something I enjoy doing?"

Pausing to take a breath, Francis glanced at the eerily quiet Brit and instantly regretted every word he had said. Every once of pain his words had caused was evident on Arthur's face, pain that was only accentuated by the tears trickling down cheek. When Arthur noticed Francis was watching him he turned to face the opposite direction and did his best to hide the evidence of tears.

"Well then if that's how you feel I will leave you to your peace. Feel free to go back to Paris, or where ever the hell you want to go at anytime. Obviously you have no reason to stay."

"I didn't mean-"

"No I think you did."

With what ever shreds of dignity Arthur still felt he had the Brit marched to the door, but as soon as he reached the door frame his emotions took over and he began to sprint.

"Wait! Arthur don't-"

The loud slam of the front door cut off the Frenchman's cries and spurred him to chase after Arthur.

"Nom de Dieu!"

Franticly, Francis searched for his coat before running out into the rain. A precaution Arthur clearly ignored judging by the coat still on the rack. As an after thought he grabbed an umbrella too before dashing out the door. _Why is it always fricken raining here!_ As soon as his foot reached the sidewalk Francis began running down the street, desperately searching for the runaway man. By the time he reached the corner everything on him, from his hair to the outer layer of his coat was completely soaked. Rounding the bend he finally spotted Arthur sprinting down the road.

"Arthur stop running!"

Hearing the Frenchman's voice only caused Arthur to speed up his escape. All of the sudden the rain fell harder, as if the weather was linked to Arthur's emotions and Francis nearly lost sight of him. _For some one six months pregnant he sure runs fast, but lord knows I've had plenty of practice running faster._ Forcing himself to run faster Francis caught up to Arthur, grabbed his wrist, and turned him around.

"Let go of me frog! I've had enough of you!"

Using the hand that wasn't in Francis' grasp he slapped the Frenchman across the face, but Francis seemed unaffected.

"As long as you're crying I'll say no every time."

With just enough force to move the stubborn Brit, Francis pulled Arthur against him being careful enough to mind his stomach and crushed the protesting mouth against his own. Their battle of words and emotions soon morphed into a battle of lips, tongues, and with ever increasing frequency, teeth. But just like all their other fights when no clear victor could be found the drive on both sides died down and they were left in silence. Breaking the tranquility Francis rested his forehead on Arthur's and spoke in hushed tones.

"I am, as you would say a first class wanker. What I said in the kitchen was stupid and uncalled for. Can you forgive me?"

Still a little stunned, Arthur stood silently for a second before pulling Francis closer.

"After everything I've done and everything I've said you still chased after me?"

"What else is one supposed to do when his love runs off into the rain?"

Positioned on the streets of London staring silently into cerulean eyes, Arthur couldn't think of another time he had felt more loved. Even in the rain cradled by damp arms with sopping blonde hair floating around his face he felt as warm as if he were standing on a beach during an Australian winter. With a sheepish grin plastered to his face he responded.

"That whole scene was entirely my fault, not yours Froggy."

"How so lapin?"

"I followed you into the kitchen looking to start a fight."

"Ahh but when it comes to love if it's not rough it isn't fun."

"Can you refrain from quoting Lady Gaga please?"

Uttering a quick tisk Francis slipped out of his jacket and draped it over Arthur.

"Lady Gaga quotes moi, not the other way around. Now silly it is time for you to get out of the rain."

Bending over Francis picked up the umbrella he had long since dropped and opened it over the two of them.

"The outside may be soaked, but I think you will find the inside to be perfectly dry and extremely warm."

"Francis quit the gentleman act. I've lived in the rain all my life, put your damned coat back on."

"I would like to see you try and make me."

Holding his arm out Francis glanced down at Arthur with an expression that clearly stated his will would not bend. Reluctantly Arthur took his arm and together they walked back to the house.

"After we dry off Arthur dearest I think I've thought of something that will end your boredom."

* * *

When ever Alfred had a problem, with out fail he went to the nearest McDonalds to think things out. He could always count on the smells of sizzling hot oil and greasy meat to jump start his creativity. There wasn't a single problem that sitting in a sticky booth couldn't solve, which is exactly why Alfred found himself munching on fries at this exact moment.

His current issue was a certain Russian who refused to go back home to commie land. The other day he had asked… ok harassed Ivan until he had flown to America. His plan had been to have a little fun bothering the Russian, sucker as many burgers out of the man as he possibly could, and maybe push him off a building or two just for old time's sake. Unfortunately yesterday had not gone according to plan at all. Somehow after he had picked up Ivan from the D.C. airport they had ended up in a bar and… well after that he couldn't remember much. The next thing he could clearly recal was the next morning. Upon waking this morning he had discovered that he had a killer head ache and the few hundred dollars in his wallet were gone and seemed to be replaced with bar nuts, but that wasn't even the scariest part. When he had gone into his kitchen he found Ivan making bacon and eggs whilst whistling some peppy tune. _Who does that? Scary people that's who!_ It had certainly been a horrifying way to start the day, but it wasn't the reason why had was sitting in McDonalds.

What really had him worried was where the commie had slept, so worried in fact he had devoted 30 minutes of cheeseburger time to pondering this fact. He couldn't have slept on the couch because it was still in the form of his Halo fort he liked to play video games in and he knew for a fact Ivan wouldn't have bothered with getting a hotel. They always kick him out for scaring the other guests. This is what had been troubling him because in an apartment with no guest room that only left his bed to sleep in.

"Maybe I slept in the bathtub глупый."

"HOLY BATARANG! You read minds!"

"Нет you just think out loud."

Trying his best not to look startled Alfred stared down the commie. _Damn him! How can he just sit there and read a newspaper? I would think all this capitalism would burn him like a vampire in the sun_.

"Well stop listening!"

"Did I forget to stress the loud in out loud?"

Sending the man his best dirty look, Alfred threw a fry at Ivan's face, but his precious food was wasted in vain. Instead of retaliating like Alfred had wanted he just continued to read.

"Why are you even in my McDonalds? Get out you weirdo!"

"Oh but дорогой you wanted me here."

"Only 'cuz I wanted food… AND DON'T CALL ME DARLING!"

Finally setting down his paper Ivan smirked at his companion.

"I see you can still understand Русский язык."

"Well I would think so! How else would I spy on you then kick your ass?"

"It is remarkable how much you resemble Arthur."

Ducking his head Ivan dodged the fist full of fries that were thrown his way.

"Well I think I know how Iggy feels when Francis is bugging the shit outta him."

"You want to have my babies?"

Bolting up from his seat Alfred loomed over the table and shouted right into Ivan's face.

"DON'T GO THERE RUSKIE"

Smiling directly into the face of danger, Ivan calmly addressed the American.

"Calm down Alfred. I already got there last night. I should be good for awhile."

A few hours later a Maryland man would be returning home from work and turning on the TV in his apartment. As he sat on his couch eating a bowl of cheerios he flipped to the local news channel just in time to see the top stories of the day. In his best television voice, the perfectly coiffed news anchor addressed his viewers.

"Man attempts murder in local McDonalds, blaming vodka and French influence on Russian Culture."

* * *

"When I said I was bored earlier that wasn't a signal for you to force me into a bleedin' dress."

Fidgeting in his seat, Arthur inspected the simple silver ball gown that Francis had stuck him in.

"I look like a drag queen."

"Oh come now darling, you look far too elegant in Vlad's gown to be a drag queen."

Crossing his arms Arthur tuned his head to glare at the man in the driver's seat.

"I am a man in a sparkly dress and you put make up all over my face."

Stopping at the next red light Francis turned to face Arthur with usual amused smile. Quickly reaching out he gently cupped the Brit's chin and lifted his pouting face towards him, examining it for a few minutes before letting it go to resume driving.

"Despite the immense struggling I had to combat I managed to make you look like a woman, and a rather pretty one at that. Although I do suppose you were a bit effeminate before."

Rolling his eyes Arthur switched his attention from the self satisfied man to the buildings passing by his window. He knew what street Francis was taking them down, but he still had no idea where there were headed.

"So very funny Francis, let's poke fun at how I'm slowly turning into a woman."

"Mignon you have always looked womanish."

"Oh so just because I'm not tall with obvious muscles and facial hair I'm not manly! And what about you! You used to run around flaunting your long hair and tunic-dress-things!"

"Don't get all worked up! If it makes you feel better you are the most dangerous girly man I know."

"As I bloody well should be. Wait a minute… that's not what I wanted to say."

Audibly groaning, Francis slouched in his seat from exasperation.

"Arthur can't you please just let me win?"

"…Fine."

Instantly Arthur's face scrunched up in disgust. Admitting to defeat, no matter how small always left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

"So long as you tell me where the bloody hell you are taking me."

When Francis turned to look at Arthur the Brit recognized the mischievous glint in his eyes and the cryptic twist of his grin. _Perhaps I don't want to know._

"Francis … where?"

"All in due time mon amour, all in due time."

With that the Frenchman refused to say another word, despite Arthur's protests and for several minutes they sat in complete silence save for the impatient tapping of Arthur's fingers. The car passed by building after building directed by the Frenchman, turning down roads Arthur hadn't been down in ages before it finally came to a stop.

"This is it lapin. We are here."

"Where exactly is here?"

"Why don't you get out of the car and find out."

Slightly frazzled Arthur stared at the French speaking man who just stared right back into his eyes. For several minutes they sat, locked in a battle of wills. Eventually Arthur gave into Francis' pleading look and unbuckled.

"Fine I'll go in, but you better get your arse over here and open my door like a proper gentleman."

Quickly flashing and extremely bright smile Francis jumped out of the car and scurried to Arthur's side. As he approached the passenger's side and opened the door Arthur could have sworn he heard the Frenchie utter some sort of giggle like noise. The jovial expression Francis wore reminded Arthur so greatly of the young Gaul he used to be, he couldn't help but smile a little on the inside as he let the Frenchman walk him to the front door on his arm.

When they got to the entrance Francis pushed aside the decorative doors to reveal a wonderland of bright lights and polished marble architecture. Scattered around the room were tables where diners chatted happily as they ate. A pianist sat by the back wall on a slightly elevated platform, filling the room with music beautiful enough to satisfy Roderick. The middle of the room was left clear for a dance floor where couples danced to the audible gold drifting through out the room. Starry eyed Arthur turned to the man next to him.

"Francis this is wonderful."

"And tonight my love it is all yours."

With a simple nod of the head Francis signaled the maître d' who promptly walked over to where they were standing.

"Your usual table is waiting for you Mister Bonnefoy."

Ignoring the obvious fact Francis must come here often enough to be remembered Arthur studied the man who led them to their table. He estimated the maître d' to be around forty-five. He had a kind looking face complete with smile lines, dark blue eyes, and thinning brunette hair.

"Merci beaucoup Laurence. You have been wonderful as ever. I understand you moved the Swedish Ambassador and his company from this table just for… Elizabeth et moi."

Using the arm that wasn't occupied by Arthur, Francis gave the middle aged man a familiar one armed hug, which left Laurence with a light blush.

"Oh it was nothing. After all you are much friendlier then those two…scary men."

"You are too kind mon ami."

With a small bow the man left Arthur and Francis to them selves and continued his duties. A short while later their waiter arrived and within minutes their orders were placed and they were casually conversing over glasses of wine and sparkling grape juice.

"Que pense-tu mon chéri?"

"I think that your friend Laurence was blushing a bit too profusely around you."

Ever since they had entered the restaurant Arthur's mood had improved greatly, which showed in the joking smirk he directed at Francis over the rim of his glass.

"Should I be concerned froggy dearest?"

Answering Arthur's smile with a soft chuckle Francis laughed with his dinning partner.

"Ahh dear Laurence has always had a soft spot for me, but I've never really pressed it."

Upon hearing this Arthur shot the Frenchman a mocking look.

"Oh really now? That might be the first person in history you've left alone."

"Mais oui! While my devilish good looks charming manners may cause him to question his sexual orientation, I happen to know his one true love is his lovely wife Linda, who also happens to have a nasty right hook."

Instinctively Francis began to rub his jaw and the look on his face clearly stated he had learned this by example. Faster then the blink of an eye Arthur dissolved into a fit of laughter that lasted well throughout dinner and even got the children kicking. After finishing his meal, Arthur looked up from his plate to find Francis watching him with his head propped up on his hands.

"Elbows off the table."

"Désolé I'm not used to that being considered bad table manners."

Sighing at the French-ness of his dinning partner, Arthur shook his head at Francis.

"Why are you looking at me so intently?"

"You are so beautiful when you laugh."

"What?"

Without another word the man stood up from his seat and stepped over to Arthur's side of the table. Looking down at the Brits he held out his hand with a sincere smile on his face.

"Allons-y ma petite Elizabeth."

Taking the offered hand without question, Arthur soon found himself being led to the dance floor where they easily joined the rhythm of the music.

"Francis why have you been calling me Elizabeth all night?"

"The answer is simple non?"

"Would I be asking if I knew?"

"Good point."

Glancing down at their feet for a second the Brit marveled at how easily they danced together. Their bodies entwined as close as his pregnancy permitted and they glided across the dance floor, hundreds of years of practice making it second nature. It was almost as if they had been designed with this very purpose in mind.

"If I called you Arthur it would cause quite a stir considering you look like an extremely gorgeous, pregnant woman."

"I get that, but why Elizabeth? You always have reasons behind names."

"Secretly I've always been partial to your beloved Elizabeth I"

"Really? I was under the impression you favored her mother Anne."

Leaning forward Francis pressed his lips to Arthur's forehead and smiled.

"Madame Boleyn was a very interesting woman, but she doesn't suit you. Your personality more befits the woman who sunk Antonio's beautiful armada."

"I must admit, that was really fun."

"He was pissed for weeks after that. I don't recall ever seeing him that angry."

The pianist changed songs with an artistic flourish and as the music slowed Arthur rested his chin on his partner's shoulder.

"I have another question Francis."

"You seem to be full of them tonight lapin. Go ahead and ask."

"How did you manage to find a place in my capital that I had no knowledge of it's existence?"

"Oh I have my ways. Over the years I have spent quite a bit more time in England then you would care to know about."

Straightening back up Arthur starred at the Frenchman with what he imagined was a horrified expression. Deciding he was too fond of the current peace to disrupt it he settled his chin back on Francis' shoulder, nestling into his neck so much his next response was distorted.

"Ahh stalker."

The half hearted attempt at sarcastic terror came out one jumbled mess. Quizzical expression plastered on his face, Francis twirled the pair around the floor.

"Did you just call me an ass fucker amoureux because we both know I can not deny that."

"You are properly foul, you know that?"

Francis couldn't help but laugh for what seemed like the millionth time that night at the disgusted noises Arthur made. The disgruntled man had lifted his head from his shoulder once more and was gaping at him in a most appalled manor. With each passing second the Brit's eyebrows inched together and his cheeks grew pinker as his embarrassment set in. Every move they made caused the silver fabric of Arthur's gown to catch the chandelier light in a way that already accentuated his already glowing appearance. It was ridiculous how beautiful, how perfect Arthur looked right then and it just caused Francis' heart to melt even faster.

"Mais you love me that way. Come now darling let us dance the night away."

Placing forehead against forehead, nose to nose Francis whispered his mots d'amour.

"Tonight there is only you and me, nothing and no one else matters. Right now the center of the universe Is our love, entangled we revolve around it dancing to the soft melody of a song."

As if stuck in a trance Arthur spun around the dance floor with Francis for what seemed like hours, his emerald eyes perpetually locked with blue. They spoke not a word; for there were no words that could amount to the perfection of the moment. In their world it was just the two of them, forever dancing under the twinkling lights, but eventually reality caught up to them. Eleven o'clock brought with it the end of restaurant hours and as the staff began closing for the night the spell broke, but Arthur was still euphoric. He walked to the car, tired, smiling, and embraced by his lover, thinking of how wonderful the night had been. It had been the perfect conclusion to five months of drama and had brought him closer to Francis then ever. _Now if only I had trousers._

* * *

In my head Francis is bffs with Lady Gaga and Arthur totally has tea patries with the Queen :3

So for the first time since I started writing this I accualy have the rest of this planned out, so I should be able to update sooner now that I know what I'm doing. Thanks for reading again :D You guys are amazing, and reveiws warm my heart!


	14. Chapter 14

Wow guess who finally got around to writing her story? Sorry about the wait guys school just got out which means lots of Finals and Regents for me. Yay!

*Sigh* So I'm not sure when i'll update next because even though school is out for the summer I still have to do work. They say it's because I'm smart and deserve to be in advanced classes. but I know they are just trying to kill me. I promice i'll try and update more because I know what I want to do with the rest of this fic so it shouldn't be too hard for me to do this and read 3 books, one Text book, 6 proffesional essays, and then write essays on them all right? Dieu I might just be in over my head.

Ok So I fiddled with some Japanese honorifics and Italian. Once again I say if i made a mistake just tell me.

Also I don't own Hetalia, Top Gear, or Richard Hammond, but I really really wish I did.

Ok Well here go the translations:

Oui vous êtes- (French) Yes you are

Dieu- (French) God

дорогой - (Russian) Sweetheart

Альфред, вы так английски- (Russian) Alfred you are so English

Chef-d'œuvre- (French) Masterpiece

Блонди- (Russian) Blondie

Was- (German) What

Ciao- (Italian) Hello

Ja - (German) Yeah

Sciocco- (Italian) silly

Ma petite italienne- (French) My little Italian

Hai- (Japanese) Yes

Certamente- (Italian) Certainly; For sure; Of corse

Certainement- (French) Certainly

Ok two things you need to know and then you should be good reading.

1st Duncan is the name I have given to Scotland

2nd When you get to it the other 2 out of 4 people are Russia and Belarus. Trust me you'll know when you get there.

* * *

_He is bloody bonkers. There is no other explanation for him._

Setting it back on the rack, Arthur shook his head as he stared at the phone in front of him. The conversation he had just finished had utterly and completely bewildered him beyond the point of reason. Although that seemed to be the current trend of all calls received at the Kirkland residence. Arthur wasn't really sure why he even bothered to answer the phone nowadays. If it wasn't one of Francis' ridiculous friends looking for the Frenchman, then it was some one calling to bother the Brit. The other day his brother Duncan had even called to mock him in his barely understandable Scottish birr.

Thankfully the call he had just finished wasn't anyone from the Isles, but he couldn't say it was anyone much better. It had been Alfred. The American had been almost hysterical when he called, so hysterical he had switched between different regional accents so much Arthur could barely understand him. At one point the Brit had called over Francis to interpret Cajun.

Apparently Alfred had managed to get himself thrown into jail. He had refused to tell him exactly why or how, but the spastic blonde had enlightened him to the fact that it had involved McDonalds, fries, Russians, and somehow it was all Francis' fault. Arthur really had no clue how it was Francis' fault, but if he had thought long enough he probably could have thought of a logical reason in support of Alfred's accusation.

Now that Alfred was locked in some cell he had decided that it was Arthur's job to come and get him. Frankly Arthur thought a jail cell was an extremely safe way to contain the little window breaker (yes he was still bitter over that) so why Alfred had decided that Arthur would ever travel across the pond just to bail his ass out of jail, the world would never know.

"He's mentally addled."

"What's wrong now cher?"

From a few rooms away the melodic twinkling voice of an extremely self satisfied Frenchman laughed at the Brit. Looking over his shoulder, Arthur gazed into the blue eyes of the man who had maneuvered to the door behind him. Francis was standing in the doorway to the sun porch in really tight knee length pants. The Frenchman had been doing what Arthur had assumed was yoga so they were probably what you would call "Yoga pants," but the Brit hadn't asked just incase. Recently the frog had become infatuated with certain aspects of Indian culture, particularly Hindu literature.

"Nothing's gone wrong, unless you count Alfred behind bars as something gone wrong."

The mental confusion Alfred had caused and the pouting tone he had taken with him had irritated Arthur. Needless to say his emotions clearly showed on his face and Francis found the pout playing at the Brit's lips strangely attractive. Chuckling, Francis walked over to the grumpy Brit and wrapped his arms around his ever growing waist.

"You've raised yourself quite the delinquent Artiecakes."

"I told you not to call me by that name."

Francis promptly reached his hand up and playfully tapped Arthur on the nose.

"You will have to cut my tongue out first."

"Don't tempt me, because you know I would do it especially when you keep poking fun at my childrearing."

"Mathieu has yet to end up in jail…besides after that one near fatal hockey fight, but that doesn't count…much."

"Well you've spent more time in prison yourself then the Vikings spent wearing fur vests."

Arthur attempted to pull away from the Frenchman's hold, but Francis quickly pulled him back and immediately nestled his face into the crook of Arthur's neck.

"That may be true, but there is one key difference between my imprisonment and Alfred's."

"And what would that critical point be?"

"You bail me out without a second thought."

Francis laughed as he watch Arthur sputter in attempt to formulate a retort. Several minutes passed by before Arthur could string some words together.

"Did you ever stop and think if there may or may not be personal reasons behind my haste frog?"

"I've pondered the emotional motivations behind your punctuality once or twice and I find your personal devotion extremely flattering."

"Oh so I'm devoted to you know?"

"Oui vous êtes."

"Prove it."

Gazing directly into Arthur's eyes, Francis arrogantly smiled whilst he rubbed the Brit's stomach.

"I can think of two right off the top of my head."

"…..shut up."

Laughing once more, Francis let go of Arthur and turned to walk away purposely shaking his ass a bit as he walked. He made it half way out of the room before Arthur called out to him.

"Hey where the hell do you think you're going Frogger?"

Pivoting on his heels Francis turned to face Arthur, coyly smiling when he saw the blushing expression on the Brit's face. Obviously he shaking had not gone unnoticed. _Dieu I love these pants._

"Sadly I'm going upstairs to change out of these pants. We have guests arriving soon."

Francis began to walk away, but on second thought turned around to shoot a smoldering look at the Brit.

"Follow me if you dare."

* * *

_So this is what silence is like. _

The last twenty-four hours had been extremely uneventful by Alfred's standards, if you didn't count being arrested for attempted homicide. It was strange for Alfred to be on the other side of the law. Most of the time he was the one making arrests. After all he was an honorary Federal officer although some would argue he had just stolen a uniform from one of the agencies in D.C. but obviously they were wrong. He had only borrowed it for the rest of his life.

Relaxing on what posed for the bed in his cell Alfred gazed up at the ceiling. For the first time in an extremely long time the American had actually had the time to sit, and think. Having the time and patience to actually think through his actions ad having reasons for his thoughts was a strange sensation for him. It was weird how long it actually took to think something through. Whilst discovering his new found power of thought Alfred had learned two things; He much preferred doing things spur of the moments and the slammer wasn't all that bad.

In all honesty he couldn't see why people considered jail all that bad. Sure it was dark, dingy, smelly, and yeah strange noises emitted from the other cells late at night, but it provided…. Solitude. _Damn that's a big word._

The over-night stay had provided Alfred with a safe haven of clear headedness and most importantly, because they weren't in the Cold War era anymore, it was free of Russians. He had had enough of the vodka chugging fools to last him a life time. It was actually a nice place to say, for the American at least. He was sure the thieves, vandals, rapists, and whatever down the hall wouldn't agree with him.

Thanks to jail Alfred had been able to spend the last day pursuing the greater arts. As it turns out contemplating the world and carving a full wall mural of hamburger land into the wall with his keys was an extremely enjoyable way to spend time. The only thing that had spoiled his time was the guards hounding him all day to get out of their cell, but he was determined to stay until the mural was done. No amount of yapping about "How the charges pressed against him were dropped" or that "He had no reason to be here" was going to get him to leave. As far as he was concerned the cops were speaking nonsense and there was good no reason in this world to stop a work of art from being created.

"Alfred you should probably come home now."

The voice may have come out of nowhere, but there was no mistaking the cynical Russian-ness of the accent. When Alfred rolled over onto his side his suspicions were confirmed. The sketchy-ass Russian was looming just outside his cell."

"I am not talking to you anymore, nor will I go anywhere with you.""

"And why is that?"

"You know perfectly well why you giant… stupid head!"

"Oh дорогой I am certain I don't know what you are talking about… or how you come up with your pathetic insults."

Glaring at the man on the other side, Alfred let out a small half hearted growl.

"Don't get me started again."

"Альфред, вы так английски. It's actually rather funny that you don't notice it"

"Saying it in Russian doesn't make me hear it any less! Even so I'm going to ignore you and answer the question your alcoholic brain probably doesn't even remember asking."

Jumping up from the bed, Alfred walked over and pressed his face through the bars so that he could glare at the Russian from a closer proximity.

"I am not leaving this jail cell until I accomplish two things. First I am going to finish this mural I have started to make. It is most defiantly the cheef duh oouve of my artistic career."

Physically wincing at what Alfred seemed to think was French, Ivan made a mental note never to leave Alfred alone in France.

"Chef-d'œuvre, Alfred."

"Pfft what ever! My second condition is that I will _**NOT**_ be leaving here with you. I will exit this establishment when either Arthur or my secretary comes to get me."

His nonchalant expression now taking on an amused twist, Ivan leaned against the bars of Alfred's cell.

"Bad news Блонди you secretary and Arthur called back. Neither of them are coming to get you."

"No way! Your lying!"

"I assure you I am not."

_Well at least I'm not completely lying._ It was true that Arthur had called (that conversation had gotten extremely weird with the addition of questionable background noises) to tell them that he refused to come and get Alfred, but not so much his secretary. Ivan had actually had to spend a good twenty minutes to convince the women that he could handle Alfred. Ivan wasn't normally a jealous man, but he had met Miss Jessica Hewitt and he knew just how much she liked to parade her pretty behind around in miniskirts for Alfred's pleasure.

"Your secretary has other engagements today, and Arthur was most ardent when he refused to come here and "_get your bloody ass out of jail_." Apparently he's "_done that enough in his life for another person_" and has "_no bleeding reason_" why he should come and get you."

Each time the man quoted Arthur, Ivan did his best comical impersonation of the Englishman in an effort to get a laugh out of the stern American. As he watched Alfred he noticed that the golden blond had to do his best not to laugh.

"He's not even sending Francis?"

Smirking at the once again despaired looking Alfred, Ivan answered him.

"Now we both know Arthur would never willing send Francis to rescue another man. "Prince Francis" only has one damsel in distress as far as he's concerned."

Rolling his eyes, Alfred slouched against the bars.

"Ugh those two are gross sometimes."

"Why? Because Arthur's "smitten" and Francis is finally monogamous?"

Giving Ivan one of his all time best dirty looks Alfred enlightened the Russian.

"No. They're gross because they are covered head to toe in…icky love goo and it drips all over their surroundings."

"I'm not sure what "icky love goo" is, but I think there is another name I would give the goo that's all over the two of them."

"…..EWW!"

It took a little bit for the innuendo to register, but after Alfred got it Ivan had the full pleasure of viewing the utterly disgusted look on his face.

"Come on Alfred. You and I both know that was funny."

Scrunching his face into an expression that resembled his guardian more closely then Alfred would like to admit, he stared at the man in front of him. It was strange when Ivan laughed for real. It wasn't that boyish high pitched giggle he did for show, or that murderous chant he seemed to favor when he was angry. The Russian's real laugh was deep, melodic, and surprisingly warm for a nation that cold. Not that it warmed his heart or anything. No not at all. To him it was just another laugh with no special meaning or personal memories attached to it what so ever.

"Yeah… it was wasn't it."

Looking up from the floor, where his gaze had some how drifted, Alfred peered through the bars at Ivan. When the slightly taller man caught his gaze, the American was confronted with the goofiest grin he had ever seen. Soon the pair's silence dissolved into a fit of unbridled laughter. Alfred had never seen the man laugh this much in the entirety of the time he had know him. _Okay so he's not quite as cold and creepy as I thought._

Their laughter now under control Alfred smiled at the pale skinned man. With a quick change of heart Alfred decided it would be useless to stay in the cell.

"Ok Ruskie I'll go home with you."

With a quick push on the bars from the blonde the cell door swung open and Alfred swaggered out, all the while under the surveillance of the bewildered Russian.

"The door was open the entire time?"

"Well duh. How else would I be able to sneak out at night and get fast food?"

* * *

With hands on hips Arthur stood next to his dresser, staring at Francis with a huge look of disbelief on his face.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I assure you I am by no means joking with you."

"You know Francis, sometimes I question your sanity."

Francis just smiled as the Brit deadpanned and turned to adjust his hair in the mirror.

"Oh please Arthur don't be so dramatic. You and I both know you question my sanity at least seven times a day."

"You're damn right I do- wait why are you agreeing with me?"

"Perhaps it is because I think you're right?"

Arthur dropped the shirt he had been holding back into the dresser upon hearing this and grabbed one of Francis' jackets off the chair next to him. Quickly he turned to glare at the Frenchman.

"Well that's a lie if I've ever heard one. Tell me the truth, now or the Pierre Talamon gets it!"

Rolling his eyes at the reflection of the dramatic Brit in the mirror, Francis continued to fiddle with his golden locks. His indifference only infuriated Arthur more.

"You've been watching too many American cop shows lately. Go ahead and shred the jacket, it's last season I wouldn't wear it anyways."

His mouth now wide open in shock Arthur just gaped at Francis.

"You would just trash a several hundred dollar jacket?"

"Well I wouldn't trash it. Most of the time I stow it away in the closet for five or so years before wearing it again claiming it's retro, but if you must take your anger out on Pierre's stitches then go ahead."

After hearing this statement Arthur couldn't do anything but blankly scoff at the man in front of the vanity mirror.

"Just…. Just tell me why you're putting me through this?"

Whilst he was pruning, Francis began to purposely make faces in the mirror just to through Arthur for a loop.

"I figured that you would like some scheduled company."

"Well yeah, but those two? If you haven't noticed I've never really had a close friendship with either of them."

Finally satisfied with the arrangement of his hair, Francis stood up from the vanity stand.

"I do realize that Feliciano and Ludwig would not be your first choice of guests, but I ran into Feli on the business trip I went on last weekend and he was so excited at the prospect of visiting us."

"Oh yes that's right. You did go on that one trip and the some how came back with a tan."

Defending himself against the accusing tone the Brit had donned, Francis placed his hands upon his hips and stared down at the other man.

"You know my gorgeously pale skin tans extremely fast in the smallest of sunshine. And France tends to be a very sunny place compared to England."

"Oh yes I forgot about your skin, and I guess I also forgot that your entire body tans under your clothes with out tan lines."

Francis made an attempt to devise a come back, but then gave up and used his fall back plan; A devilish smile and a wink.

"You've got me there Mr. Holmes."

Moving to the other side of the room, Francis opened his armoire and sifted through various shirts before selecting one and putting it on.

"You are insufferable Francis."

"I try my best, now if you will excuse me I need to go and make the dinner Feli has requested."

"I'm still talking to you Francis. Francis!"

In his usual fashion Francis strutted from their room and down stairs. Watching the man as he left, Arthur shouted after him.

"How come it's always you that gets to do the bloody dramatic exits!"

* * *

"Luuuuudwig! Hey Ludwig! Luddy! Luddy lu-lu! Hey Ludw-"

Jumping up and down in the passanger seat of Ludwig's BMW, Feliciano poked the German's cheek in an attempt to get his attention. Ludwig had been doing his best to ignore the man, but after so long it proved impossible.

"WAS!"

"Ciao~"

Instantly the brunette burst into a fit of laughter. Stopping at a red light, Ludwig took the opportunity to stare at the insane man. _I should never have come with him. This trip will be the death of me._

The other day Feliciano had ran into his house blathering on about how he had seen Francis that day and some how by the end of the conversation he had ended up in charge of driving him to England for diner. He wasn't sure how or why. All he knew was that when he even hinted as to not wanting to go the shorter man had cried. A lot.

Now he found himself driving through streets he barley even knew, looking for a house he had never been to, going to visit two out of the four people that scared him in this world. Granted Feliciano had been asleep for most of the trip which had made driving easy, but as soon as they had entered London the man had sprung to life. It had actually been really creepy. Before they crossed the city limits he had been sound asleep and then instantly he was awake singing songs and pointing out all the restaurants on the streets that served pasta.

Ignoring yet another phone call, Ludwig kept driving. For the entire drive over and even before his brother had been harassing him nonstop. Gilbert was convinced Feliciano had him "on a leash" and anytime now he would become just as whipped as Antonio. Clearly his brother was wrong and missing the point of his accompaniment. He may not have volunteered to go across the channel and the car ride over may have put him closer to the brink of insanity then any other encounter with the Italian he had had, but Ludwig understood his presence was needed. Just thinking of what could happen to the small man if he was left alone with Francis made him shudder.

Arthur may have been there with Feliciano, but the world knew he couldn't completely reign Francis in. If anything his pregnancy was living proof. So annoying as it may be, Ludwig would accompany Feliciano for how ever long he was in London. He just hoped that he could get there as soon as possible and let the crazy man out of the car. The last few minutes of jittering, giggling, and repetitive noise making had proven to be more annoying then anything Ludwig had ever encountered and he had spent a lot of time with the Italian. It was obvious that Feliciano should never be contained in small spaces.

"Awww don't look so angry Luddy. I was just kidding, I don't want to just say hi. I have lots of other things to say."

Sighing, the German continued to drive and tried his best not to look so stern.

"Then what did you want to say?"

Seemingly unaffected by the angry outburst of the blonde man, Feliciano smiled at the German.

"I was wondering what we are going to eat for dinner."

"I'm not sure Feliciano, you're the one who planned this…. Francis is cooking right?"

"Sì! I asked big brother to make pasta for me, but then he said Arthur didn't want pasta because It doesn't sit well in his tummy. So I'm not sure if he'll make it, but Francis always gives me what I ask for. He says it's because I'm his favorite-"

Still grinning the brunette man chatted away, blissfully unaware that Ludwig had long since stopped paying attention.

"-I'm so happy we're going to visit Francis and Arthur. They're so cute together with their pretend fighting when really they love each other more then I love pasta. Ooo and I bet Arthur's tummy is huge by now! Staying with Francis is always fun. I remember one time when I visited him Francis taught me about intercourse!"

That was the moment when Ludwig started paying attention again. His face now bright with a mixture of anger and embarrassment he turned to his passenger.

"He taught you what!"

"Oh don't be so surprised. I had to learn it from someone."

"Well… yeah, but from Francis? He is not the proper person to be teaching you things."

"You didn't complain about the things he taught me last night."

Instantly blushing, Ludwig attempted to sputter out a retort to the Italian who in contrast to the German was sitting in the passenger seat, smiling innocently. The look Ludwig sent the man instead said all Feliciano needed to know. In response he just shrugged his shoulders.

"Ehhh I'm Italian."

_Dually noted._ Ludwig couldn't help but watch the other man out of the corner of his eye whilst he drove. He now had a completely new perspective of the man. _Purhaps he has a little too much fun when he visits Francis. _The atmosphere in the car had become instantaneously awkward. Thankfully it was only a few minutes before they arrived at their destination. As soon as they pulled into the driveway Feliciano began to jump even more in his seat.

'Ve~ Ludwig this is Arthur's house right! Right!"

"Ja… do you think you can behave?"

Before he could answer the German, Feliciano jumped out of the car almost before it had reached a complete stop. Shaking his head, Ludwig watched as the Italian ran up the driveway, knocked on the door, and tackled Francis as soon as the Frenchman opened the door.

"This is going to be an ordeal."

* * *

"Arthur! Can I rub your belly!"

Still smiling his ever bright smile, Feliciano addressed the man sitting across from him at the kitchen table. Unwillingly Arthur spat out his drink.

"What!"

"I want to rub your belly! It's so cute and I just want to touch it all over!"

The entire table watched as the Italian man swung his pasta filled fork around, dripping sauce everywhere as he spoke with his hands. As per usual Feliciano spoke without a filter and every thought that came to mind was said, causing various reactions within the audience. Ludwig sat quietly in shock as he had been since he set foot in the house. Arthur was simply astonished at the ease the brunette said the creepiest things. The man had just casually asked to rub the stomach of another man he barely even knew. And then there was Francis who just laughed at the whole thing. In his opinion life was full of awkward moments and it was way more enjoyable to laugh at them all.

"You want to rub my stomach…that actually came out of your mouth right? Or am I just delusional?

"Of coarse I said it sciocco! I love babies and you've got two in you don't you?"

"Y-yeah…."

The conversation that had previously captivated the table died down to silence save for Francis' chuckles. Arthur found himself incapable of anything besides silence.

"Feliciano! Do not be so blunt! You are Arthur's guest and you should not be harassing him."

"Ve~ but Luddy I wasn't trying to harass him I swear! I haven't even tried to take his clothes off or anything!"

"Feliciano… there are more kinds of harassment then sexual harassment."

Ludwig glared down the brunette who had his head cocked to the side. After a few seconds of a blank stare Feliciano straightened up and smiled once more.

"Oh! Well it's nice to know that."

Looking down at his plate the Italian finished what as left of his food and then jumped up from his seat.

"Hey Francis! Do you still have that game? You know the one with the colored pieces and the game board and the stuff!"

Looking up at the man who appeared to be vibrating with excitement, Francis couldn't help but join in on the smiling.

"I'm not exactly sure what you are talking about Feli, but I'm sure I could find some game you can enjoy. I just have to clear the table first or Arthur will get cranky."

"Aww but cleaning the table's going to take forever!"

"Fifteen minutes at most ma petite italienne"

Getting up to start clearing away dishes, Francis was surprised when Ludwig rose at the same time.

"Nein let me do it. Clearing the table is the least I can do after the ruckus Feliciano has caused."

"Yay! Now we can go play Francis_!"_

Soon everyone left the table, leaving Arthur by himself. Feliciano ran off dragging Francis with him to the living room and when Ludwig finished with the dishes he followed after them, doubtlessly off to protect the Italian from any further perversion. From his seat at the table Arthur could hear laughter floating through out the house. _Alone again._

It was a strange feeling to be all alone in house full of people. Not that Arthur was complaining. After several months of chaos it was nice to have some actual quiet. He enjoyed the solace that came with the silence, it was the emptiness that he detested. That's why he spent his time with Francis and his boisterous friends. _Better to be loud and together then quiet and alone._He honestly couldn't tell if it was his real feelings or if his inter turmoil was just heightened by his hormones, but he craved friendship.

_For now those three will have to do. _Arthur stood to go join the others in the front room when the house phone rang again. _It better not be Alfred again. _When the caller ID showed a long distance number the Brit wasn't familiar with, he prepared for the worst. Practically ripping the phone from the receiver he answered it.

"Alfred if you're calling me again to get me to bail your sorry arse out of jail it's not going to work. I already told you and Ivan I wasn't coming, ever!"

Assuming the caller was Alfred, Arthur answered a bit more sternly then he would have normally. It didn't take him long to realize that the quiet now slightly frightened voice that answered was not the American, but in fact some one completely different.

"Ah no Arthur-san I am not Alfred-san…"

"Oh… blimey Kiku I'm sorry. I thought you were some one else…as you could probably guess…"

"No there is no need for you to apologize."

Following this brief conversation was a rather large period of awkward silence. Arthur just couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the fact that the Japanese man was actually calling him. It had been ages since they had had a proper conversation. They saw each other at meetings and the like, but it wasn't really the same. Once they had been steadfast friends but since the time of their friendship they had both forged other alliances and due to the strange mixture of personal life and politics nations lived they had grown apart. The silence between the two continued until Kiku broke it.

"Were you expecting a call from Alfred-san?"

"Sort of. The idiot has managed to get himself arrested. I'm not sure how he did it or what he did, but I doubt if the police even know why. They probably locked him up for lunacy"

Through the phone Arthur could hear the Asian's noise of disapproval. He could just imagine the appearance of his face as he shook his head in disappointment.

"Alfred-san has always been one to attract trouble."

"Ha you're telling me. Imagine raising the boy."

After that there was a mutual chuckle and then more silence.

"So… Kiku… why exactly did you call me? Does Francis have some maid suits he need to return to you?"

"No. Actually it's the other way around."

"…WHAT!"

"I have a few….of his… Elizaveta-san and I needed them for… for a… photo shoot…"

Arthur could tell now that Kiku was getting embarrassed so he decided not to press the subject. He couldn't help but shake his head at his questionable friend. _I remember now how weird he can be sometimes._

"I get it Kiku… you and Elizaveta… oh never mind you don't have to explain it to me. I'm sure if I really needed to know Francis could tell me more then I ever wanted to know."

"Hai… he's good at that."

Seeming now to have regained his composure Kiku answered the first question he had been asked.

"I called you because I figured you could use some companionship…. If you don't mind talking with me. I know we really haven't talked in years, but I've heard about your last six months through Elizaveta-san and they've been crazy."

At this Arthur went speechless. For once in his life fate had given him exactly what he wanted.

"I don't know if you've changed much, but I do remember Arthur-san you don't handle crazy well…"

"Kiku… thank you. You're right, I could use a friend right now."

Smiling into the phone Arthur sat down at the table and prepared for some catching up.

* * *

Standing by the kitchen, Francis watched as Arthur sat by the table happily chatting away into the phone. Francis had been suffering through loss after loss at poker with his two guests (Feliciano is extremely crafty for someone who looks that innocent), but after a few hands he had realized Arthur had yet to join them. After making up some excuse he had gotten up to investigate why Arthur hadn't joined them. That's when he had found the man still at the diner table, smiling into a phone. It had been a more then welcome site to the Frenchman. Between the stress of his pregnancy, being a landmass, and Alfred's persistent calls from prison Arthur hadn't been smiling nearly enough. It took all of Francis' energy and quite a bit of Top Gear re-runs to keep the Brit happy as of lately. In realty he had to admit the Top Gear episodes didn't really help. They were more for satisfying his need for short men named Richard then to help Arthur…. Anyways it was nice to see him smile.

From what he had over heard it was Kiku who had called, which wasn't all that surprising. The two crazy island nations had always been extremely good friends. Going slightly insane together, industrializing, becoming imperialist nations you know the stuff good friends do. Watching the Brit laugh yet again he made a mental note to thank the honorable Mr. Honda the next time he got a chance.

"Awww Arthur is so adorable when he laughs. He looks less like he wants so castrate you."

Looking to his left, Francis found Feliciano hanging off his arm and cooing at the site in front of him.

"Yeah Feli that's exactly how I would describe it."

Ignoring the slightly sarcastic tone of voice Francis was using, Feli continued to gawk.

"Look at his baby belly! I really wish I could have felt the babies kick, but I've got to go home soon and I guess he wants to talk to Kiku tonight."

"Ouais, I haven't seen them talk like this in awhile."

Looking away from Arthur for a moment, Feliciano focused his starry eyes up at Francis.

"It's so nice that those two are friends. They are so similar…well besides those dirty magazines and books Kiku reads all the time."

Smiling Francis leaned down to whisper into the Italian's ear.

"Want to hear a secret?"

"Sí!"

"Not only does Arthur read those dirty books, but he's even been in some."

His smile growing ten times larger, Feliciano burst into a fit of giggles.

"You guys are so silly. You're going to make great parents."

"You think so?"

"Certamente! I'm going to be able to see the babies after their born right?"

"Certainement Feli, anything for you."

Smiling as Feliciano went on a rant about playing with the babies and making pasta with them, Francis continued to watch Arthur. Still smiling he thought to himself. _We can do this._

* * *

Okey dokey pals thats it for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it and that the ending isn't as stupid as I think it might be.

Thanks for reading :D


	15. Chapter 15

Hey look another chapter! Here is chapter 15 in all it's glory I hope you enjoy. I'm not going to write much here because I'm tired and it's like 1:30am and stuffz. Mostly I'm just lazy :p Deal with it.

Translations:

Voilà les oreilles-(French) Here the pillows are... dosn't really translate well

Je suis désolé mais je ne comprends pas l'anglais-(French) I am sorry, but I do not understand English

Excusez-moi? Je pensais que tu voulais un scone-(French) Excuse me? I thought you wanted a scone.

En français ou que vous ne mangez pas le scone-(French) In French or no scone

mon ami vindicatifs-(French) My vindictive friend

Enchanté ma chérie-(French) Pleasure to meet you my darling

Merci beaucoup-(French) Thank you very much

Médecin Brun-(French) Doctor Brown

Mon bien-aimé-(French) My beloved

cazzo poco imbarazzante-(Italian) A little fucking awkward/embarassing

Biondo-(Italian) Blonde

Cosa-(Italian) What

It appears that we have an angry Italian in this chapter... :3

* * *

"FROG! BRING ME MORE PILLOWS!"

"How many more do you need! I've already emptied the guest room!"

"I'll be happy as soon as I have all of yours."

Leaning through the doorway, Francis stared in disbelief at the grumpy Brit.

"Seriously?"

"Does this face look like it's kidding?"

Looking into the eyes of the furious man, Francis decided that because Arthur's face was turning pink with anger and his brows had melded into one, it was probably best not to mess with the man. Sighing Francis left the room again in search of more pillows.

It may be slightly cruel, but Arthur would be lying if he said the frustrated look on the Frenchie's face didn't bring him some small degree of pleasure. Arthur had been miserable for weeks now, weeks! Arthur had discovered long ago that the novelty of pregnancy wears off pretty quickly and when it leaves, it makes your life a living hell.

The babies, or at least one of them, kicked every minute of everyday like it was trying to keep him from forgetting it was there, and it was driving him insane. Every part of his body hurt like and he had muscles aching that he didn't even know he had, but that wasn't even the worst bit. For the last month or so he had been gaining weight at a rate that would put sumo wrestlers to shame. His growth had reached the point where he wasn't sure if he would fit through doors anymore and to top it all off he might have been suffering from slightly violent mood swings.

Doctor Brown said that this was all part of being nine months pregnant and after the children were born he would feel better. Arthur sure hopped he was telling the truth. He had be curiously awaiting the day when he would get to see the children he was carrying, but with the added benefit of ending the last miserable dregs of gestation Arthur was ecstatic. He honestly couldn't understand how women put up with this and being in their shoes made him realize just how justified their protests were.

The only consolidation he had was that because all his troubles were directly linked to bearing children, they were all Francis' fault. Therefore he deserved to suffer, and suffer he would. As far as he was concerned Francis could spend the next few days playing servant. After all donating sperm wasn't even half the job of having kids.

"Voilà les oreilles, satisfied?"

Grabbing the satin covered pillows, Arthur added them to the piles that surrounded him on the couch. Once he was finished adjusting them properly he turned back to the Frenchman.

"Get me some of the ice cream in the freezer and then we can talk about being satisfied."

His tone steadily growing more irritated and sarcastic with each remark, Francis answered the Brit.

"Which flavor?"

"All of them."

When Francis looked at the look Arthur was giving him, he didn't even bother to make any protests.

"And I want a scone too."

Making a noise of disgust Francis turned to stare at the man on the couch.

"If you're going to indirectly feed my children that horrible creation you better say please."

Rolling his eyes Arthur attempted to be civil. Francis had been doing his best to keep up with his demands so he guessed the man deserved some slack.

"Please can you get me a scone."

"Ehhh non."

"Why? I said please."

"Ah Je suis désolé mais je ne comprends pas l'anglais."

Arthur expression instantly darkened as he looked over Francis.

"Sod off! I'm not going to say it."

"Excusez-moi? Je pensais que tu voulais un scone."

"I will not say it."

"En français ou que vous ne mangez pas le scone."

Finally able to gain the upper hand, Francis beamed down at the sputtering man lounging on the couch. For the last couple of weeks Arthur had been an emotional rollercoaster and he had been the poor passenger strapped into the first car against his will. Obviously today was going to be another one of Arthur's grumpy days. He knew the best thing to do would be to just go along with the Brit, but after hours of torture Francis couldn't help but take this opportunity to mess with Arthur just a bit. He wasn't completely serious.

Regardless of what Arthur said, Francis would still get him the food he desired if only to calm him down so that they could go to their doctors appointment. Judging by Arthur's current disposition there was much fun to be had with Doctor Brown today.

"Fr-francis why can't you just g-get me a scone?"

As Arthur quietly whimpered out this statement he quickly burst into tears. Immediately Francis' smirk disappeared and he ran over to the man for he was not expecting the sudden onslaught of tears.

"Oh pauvre don't cry."

Sitting down on the edge of the couch, Francis gently wiped away the tears with his thumbs and kissed Arthur's forehead. Immediately the Brit's tears ceased and not too soon after words Arthur slapped him across the face.

"GO GET ME THE DAMNED SCONE!"

Slightly aghast Francis stood up from the couch.

"You mon ami vindicatifs are very bitter."

"Shut up frog you like it."

Standing up from the couch Francis silently went to the kitchen. _The miserable man does have a point._

* * *

As the clock struck one Scott Brown found himself rushing around his office, quadruple checking that it was Arthur proof. Any minute now the infamous pair that had plagued his life for months would come in for Arthur's scheduled check up, presumably with Francis grinning as he glided down the hall followed shortly by Arthur chasing him with something blunt and/or sharp.

Arthur had been an angry man early on his pregnancy and most likely for eons before Scott was even born, but compared to his recent moods all past rages were nothing. Arthur had been visiting him weekly now that he was so close to his due date and it seemed as if every new week brought a new, even more bitter Arthur. The Brit referred to his black moods as "slight temperament confusion", but anyone on the receiving end of his distaste would agree that bear attacks were preferable to Arthur's verbal berating. After a few visits Scott had grown impervious to Arthur and had decided to let Francis handle him, but the day they had discovered Arthur had breasts capable of breast feeding (and large enough for Francis to note Arthur could actually use the lingerie he had) was forever burned into his mind. He wasn't sure if that fear would ever leave him.

Scott was lost in thought, not really paying attention to what he did until he heard from behind him the tinkling laughter of a woman. In his haste to prevent murder he had forgotten Megan, one of the nurses, had been helping him. Turning around he was greeted with the sight of the woman laughing at him.

"And what exactly is so funny Ms. Urbach?"

"Oh just the fact that you were starring in horror at a box of tissues."

Instantly dropping said tissues, Doctor Brown made a stern face at the nurse.

"For you information I wasn't staring at the tissues, but in fact the little hearts drawn all over the box most likely by Mr. Bonnefoy."

As soon as the name Bonnefoy left his mouth the woman's expression shifted from that of amusement to blissful hope.

"What I wouldn't give to have that man's babies."

Quickly Scott glanced back towards the nurse, and when he realized she wasn't joking a look of disgust quickly spread across his face.

"You're serious aren't you."

"Yes! I took a vacation to Paris in hopes that I would find another man half as fit as that sexy bit o'man is, and I am sure that's exactly why any Brit be they invading or visiting has gone to France in the past."

Scott couldn't do anything but shake his head. _She has no idea how true that is._

"Why is it that women _and men_ are seduced by his mere existence."

"I think it has something to do with his face that was crafted by gods and his voice that sounds like cupid playing a harp made of diamonds and sex."

Scoffing at the girl, Scott stood from his swivel chair and moved to look down the hallway in order to check for Arthur's arrival.

"Just the other night I was checking his medical files for any history of mental illness and my wife found his photo, took a picture of it, then spent the rest of the night giggling over it with her friends. Now I've got middle aged women and gay men begging me to give him their number."

Moving next to him, Megan made a noise of disapproval.

"Don't they know if he's getting anyone's number it'll be mine?"

"You go ahead and try Megan, but I doubt the actual mother of his children will stand for anything more then eye contact."

Her face now the image of defeat the female nurse slumped against the wall and let lose an over dramatic sigh.

"That lucky bitch…any chance they'll split up?"

Giving up all hope on the woman Scott turned away from the door and spoke aloud to himself.

"I swear the man excretes more pheromones than a cat in heat."

"Perhaps it is because I am a cat in heat."

As predicted Francis elegantly slid into the room, winking at the doctor, then stepped to the side in order to hold the door for Arthur. Scott could already feel the excitement radiating from Megan and waved a hand as to dismiss her, hoping that she could exit without causing and incident. Unfortunately fate decided to frown upon Scott. As if he could read Scott's thoughts the Frenchman reached for Megan's hand when she walked by and then brought it to his lips.

"Enchanté ma chérie. You know you might just be the only woman I know who can make scrubs look that sexy."

Stuck in the black velvet seductive trap that was Francis, Megan stood mesmerized by his gaze and muttered the first thing that came to mind.

"Je t…. t'aime."

"Merci beaucoup."

Doctor Brown watched as a wry grin spread across the Frenchman's face, but it wasn't the seduction he was worried about. Poor Megan stood on cloud nine, completely unaware of the danger that was glaring at her from behind the suave blonde. Quickly he grabbed Meg's shoulders and ushered her down the hall, all the while lecturing her on the dangers of hitting on a pregnant woman's significant other, especially this close to the due date.

Finally he walked back to his room, but not before making each and every staff member on the floor promise to stay away from his office, regardless of gender. Before he even opened his door, Scott could hear the familiar sounds of an argument and rushed to get inside. When the door burst open Scott found Arthur throwing cotton balls as hard as he could at the Frenchman who was sitting in the chair, grin wider then Doctor Brown thought humanly possible. Apparently Francis saw no need to make amends for greeting Megan in the manner in which he did, and Arthur wasn't all to happy. Standing silently, watching the storm of white puff balls and curse words only one thought ran through Scott's mind. _Dear lord, please let Arthur go into labor right now. _

* * *

"When I was in school every time the Hundred Years War was brought up I used to wonder how people could think of reasons to fight for over 100 years."

Looking over his desk at the pair in front of him Scott has to resist the urge to throw something at them. After he had calmed down the cotton ball fight the doctor had done his best to get through all the information he needed to tell the two. Since they were days away from Arthur's due date they had to run though all the procedures they would soon go through, especially when the birth was as unconventional as Arthur's. Francis and Arthur had been good for awhile until out of nowhere they had started bickering. Scott didn't even know what it was about, the fight just happened.

Thankfully they weren't yelling at each other anymore, but as Doctor Brown had discovered Arthur and Francis had no need for words. When it came to arguing a simple dark look would do.

"Knowing you two personally has answered all my questions."

"Oh trust me Scott there are things that happened centuries ago that Angleterre still holds me accountable for."

Francis bitterly looked over at Arthur in an attempt to spur the Brit into yelling again. Arthur gladly took the Frenchman's bait and began to argue once more.

"Damn right I do! You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with the Scots charging into battle naked!"

"How many times do I have to tell you before you believe me! I didn't even know you back then!"

"Yeah sure!"

As the pair verbally lashed out at each other, each word brought Scott closer to his limit until his anger levels finally boiled over.

"Gentlemen stop!"

Caught off guard by the fact they were actually being yelled at by the doctor, Arthur and Francis stopped what they were doing and stared silently at Scott.

"Obviously you two have issues. Issues that started as soon as one of you crossed the channel, but I'm not paid to fix that nor would I ever want to attempt to. I'm sure that all efforts past and present have failed to keep you from arguing so I'm willing to bet no future attempts would help."

Letting his emotions rule over his better judgment, Scott stood up from his chair and leaned over the desk.

"I don't care who threw up in who's rosebush or who flirts with the Queen from time to time. I don't even care if Her Majesty blushes at being complemented by a skank such as yourself Francis."

"Hey!"

"Oh shut up we all know that the number of people you've slept with is greater than the number of hairs in Arthur's eyebrows. The only thing I care about is that in a matter of days two children will be born into this world and they will need you to survive. Both of you need to set aside your differences and be able to take care of them."

Finishing his tirade, Scott matched the blank stares from the two blondes with a penetrating, scolding, glare. The room was silent for the first time until Francis turned to his companion.

"Cher I think Scott thinks we are serious when we fight."

Nodding his head in agreement, Arthur quickly turned to question the doctor.

"You do know that we do this for fun right?"

"What?"

"I don't like to admit it, but I make things up just for the pleasure of berating the Frog. There really isn't anything I find all that wrong about him."

The Doctor's jaw instantly dropped as his mind exploded. _Every time you think you know these two, they turn out to be the exact opposite._

"Médecin Brun when cher Arthur and I argue ninety-five percent of the time it means nothing. In all honesty we're never more turned on then when we're angry."

Scott slowly sat down in his chair and glanced at the pair skeptically.

"Seriously? All this yelling over the last nine months… was over nothing."

"Oui… normally we don't bother to tell people, but you seem to be extremely concerned."

Still looking over the doctor Arthur placed a hand on Francis' arm.

"Francis… he looks broken."

"Oh pauvre do you need a hug?"

Without waiting for an answer Francis stood up and pulled the confused man from his chair and into his arms. Within a few seconds the doctor began to squirm.

"Gah! Put me down you… frog!"

"Ahh see! Now I can tell you're English. Personally I had some doubts"

"Whatever just let me go!"

Sighing Francis let the man loose and turned to Arthur.

"Why are your people so reluctant to except love?"

"Because they don't want to end up pregnant. Now come on you idiot we've bothered this man enough today."

Grabbing the Frenchman's wrist Arthur walked from the room. Before he was completely pulled from the office, Francis turned to smile at the doctor.

"Au revoir mon ami!"

"Goodbye… and leave my nurses alone!"

As the pair walked hand in hand down the hall Scott just watched them leave. _How could they just completly change charecter? Are they trying to pull one over on me? _As soon as the coast was clear Megan rushed into his room once more.

"Aren't they so cute Doctor Brown? Do you see they way the entwine together? It's like they're made for each other"

"Megan… an hour ago you wanted them to split up so you could sleep with one of them."

"Sexual fantasies don't make true love any less noticeable or adorable."

Shaking his head Scott rested his head on the desk and decided to nap. Being forced to change your view of the world was very tiring and it was high time he got a break.

* * *

After several weeks of warfare the atmosphere at the Kirkland house was finally calm once more. Currently Arthur found himself curled up in the lap of his beloved, mindlessly watching more reruns on TV. They had been doing this for hours, but as the program ended Francis switched the television off before the next one starting had the chance to grab Arthur's attention. Deciding he didn't feel like protesting the Frenchman's actions, Arthur shifted in order to better cuddle into Francis' chest. Wrapping his arms around the British man, Francis rested his chin on the top of his head successfully completing the snuggle orgy.

"Do you remember what I we were talking about earlier cher?"

"You mean the fact that if we have a boy I refuse to name it Napoleon or Louis Quatorze?"

"I still don't understand your protests."

Lifting his head Arthur shot the Frenchman a look that clearly said "you're a dumb ass."

"I will not name my child after two of history's most narcissistic men."

"I saw no issues with either of those men's personalities."

"That's because you are thee most narcissist man in history."

"That might just be true. I think Gilbert may have me beat."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Arthur laid his head back on Francis' chest.

"While that is a subject worth remembering, I was referring to the conversation about our living arrangements after this ordeal is over."

"The one where I told you we could spend some time in France?"

"The very same."

"I'm such a bleeding div."

Francis couldn't help but chuckle as he twirled the Brit's hair around his finger. He knew now that Arthur's exasperation had no meaning to it.

"Don't be so quick to disapprove. Whilst we have been lounging around your house for the last few months I've had some friends of mine setting up and extremely adorable nursery in one of my homes."

A look of true horror on his face, Arthur abruptly sat up in the Frenchman's lap.

"By friends you don't mean Gilbert and Antonio right?"

"No… why do you ask?"

"Because if you let them design the room not only would there be small yellow birds and tomatoes everywhere, but video cameras with a direct link to the Spanish bastards computer monitoring everything the babies do and some song about Fritz would play constantly over loud speakers!"

"Arthur calm down."

"Do you want our children to be brainwashed into German speaking Fritz cult members, wanked off to by some disgusting pedophile?"

At this point Francis really wasn't sure whether to laugh or fear for Arthur's mental health.

"Lapin I didn't let them design the nursery."

"Well then who did?"

"Some assorted friends of mine, but the design committee was headed by none other then your little "Poppet"."

"Good. I'm sure Claire could more then keep a bunch a raging Frenchies under control."

Finally satisfied, Arthur settled himself back down and closed his eyes. With each breath he inhaled the unexplainable sent of Francis and he realized it was one of the most comforting scents in the world.

"Mon bien-aimé, don't fall asleep."

"I wasn't even thinking about it."

Even as he said these words a rather loud yawn slipped from the Brit's mouth. Gently clasping Arthur's chin, Francis lifted the sleepy face to gaze directly into his eyes.

"I know something better then just sleeping."

Quickly catching on to Francis' mood Arthur returned the sly grin being sent his way, but before they could even think of anything mildly sexual there was a loud cough from some where else in the room.

"Hey sex bunnies, don't you think there's enough stains on the couch?"

"Isn't sex cazzo poco imbarazzante with someone that pregnant."

Completely surprised by the sudden appearance of people in his living room, Arthur jumped from the couch with a small shriek. Francis on the other had was as unfazed as ever when it came to people bursting in on his sexual endeavors.

"Salut Claire, you're earlier then expected."

"That's all you have to say Francis!"

"What more is there to say Arthur?"

"I don't know, what about who the bloody fuck is that man and why is he here with Claire!"

Turning his attention away from the Frenchman, Arthur looked over the man standing near Claire. The brunette was at least six feet tall and wore an expression that made him seem angry and bored with the world, all at the same time.

"I am Santa Clause here to deliver your presents."

Apparently he was a sarcastic little bugger as well. Casually looking over the man from the couch, Francis laughed one short chuckle before turning to the still standing Brit.

"That I presume is the one and only Giovanni Benoit."

The brunette's gaze quickly shifted from one blonde man to the other on the couch,

"How do you know my name?"

"Please, I'm her father. I know everything."

As he spoke, Arthur noticed that Francis' voice had taken on the typical "controlling father" tone. It was strange for the Frenchman, and apparently Arthur wasn't the only one to notice.

"We're just friends Signore Bonnefoy, and if anything it should be my father worrying about Claire ruining my innocence."

Seemingly done with what ever private assessment her has preformed on the boy Francis smiled once more and chuckled at Giovanni.

"You're probably right."

The awkward atmosphere now mostly gone Claire felt it appropriate to skip across the room and embrace Arthur.

"Salut maman! Je t'aime."

Arthur hugged the girl back, smiling the entire time.

"Hello poppet. I didn't know you were coming to visit again."

"Merde you've got some boobs on you now!"

"Claire watch you mouth and stay on topic!"

With a grin greatly resembling that of her father, Claire ruffled the hair of her adopted mum.

"It was supposed to be a surprise for you, although Giovanni wasn't supposed to be here."

As she reached the last segment of her sentence, Claire's tone became accusing and she looked over her shoulder at the grumpy teen who was now sitting in a chair. When his gaze met Claire's he just shrugged.

"I don't know what to tell you biondo."

"Likely story. I just think you're tired of me going away and having all the fun."

"Think what you want."

Looking away from the girl, Giovanni shifted in the chair and closed his eyes as if to sleep. Claire just rolled her eyes and smiled back at Arthur.

"Well I'm here now which I know is a wonderful thing, but that's not even the best part."

"Then what is?"

His mood growing steadily worse at the blatent bad maners of the new comer Arthur hoped for some really good news.

"I've just decided to stay here until my adorable half siblings are born!"

As if on cue the Italian boy shot up from his chair.

"Cosa! You really don't expect me to stay here with you the whole time"

Ignoring the outburst, Claire pivoted on her heels and walked over to the newly standing man. Hooking her finger in his shirt collar she drug him back towards the door.

"Come help me with my bags Gio. There's only ten."

Before she exited the house Claire called out to Arthur.

"I'm really very sorry for Gio's behavior. I promice you it will get better, or else."

The two then left the building in an extreemly loud heated argument. With his eyes closed Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a deep breath before turning to where the Frenchman was seated.

"We can't have a few more days of normalcy?"

"It would make thing's boring, besides teenage sexual tension and angst are hilarious."

Raising his hands in defeat, Arthur walked from the room. If that last five minutes were any example the next few days would be aggravating.

* * *

And there's the end of that little thing :3 Yes more Doctor Scott Brown. I don't know why but I simply love that guy... probably because I put him through all sorts of crap.

I know a certain person that may or may not be excited 'cuz I threw their name in there.

Ok well reveiws are very nice and if any one my words be they in English, French, Italian, or what ever are wrong please just tell me. I swear i'll eventually get around to fixing all those mistakes...maybe even the ones in Chapter 1 :p


	16. Chapter 16

Hello again mes amis! Here is Chapter 16 and i'm excited! You don't know why, but you will when you're done.  
Ok so some of you might be wondering who Giovanni is. Basicaly he's Claire best friend/baby sitter. I would like to think you've all read my other stories, but I know you haven't. Well if you want a better insight into Gio then I suggest you read Minut a Pairs. That's where Gio first showed up, and it describes him better. Also it got an 87 out of 10 according to an Austrian, so it's got to be good.

Translations:

Principessa (Italian)- Princess

mi arrendo (Italian)- I surrender

Vaffanculo (Italian) - Fuck off

Non ce n'est pas mauvais (French) - No It's not bad

Dio Mio (Italian) - My God

figa (Italian)- pussy

Femmina (Italian)- she; lady; female (you get the jist)

Maschio (Italian) - he; man; male

Cazzo (Tialian) - fuck

À bientôt mon cher (French) - See you later my dear

Bon matin maman (French) - Good morning (day) Mum

Sud de l'Italie (French) - South Italy

Mia madre (Italian) - My mother

Mio Padre (Italian) - My father

Bugie! (Italian) - Lies!

Qu'est-ce que tu as dit? (French) - What did you say?

Sí, lo so (Italian) - Yes I know!

Well that's it for translations... Allons-y !

* * *

_Why am I carrying extremely heavy luggage, when it isn't mine? _Marching up the stairs of Arthur's house, Giovanni thought angrily to himself. _Why isn't the blonde demon carrying them! _His tone slightly more angered then usual, Giovanni shouted up the stairs at the blonde dancing about in font of him.

"Next time you get to carry your own bags Principessa!"

The response he got was a mockingly shocked, high-pitched voice.

"But if I carry my bags Gio, then what purpose would you have in life?"

Rolling his eyes the brunette shuffled the rest of the way up, swearing under his breath the entire time except of course when one of the bags fell. Then he swore aloud. Ahead of him, Claire elegantly slid into the guestroom, placing herself onto one of the armed chairs with all the grace and airs of royalty.

"You know I rather like the title Principessa. Form now on all members of society should address me as such."

Gio's face contorted with disgust at the overly posh British accent that came from the girl's mouth.

"Do you realize how nauseatingly wrong that sounds coming from you?"

"I don't care as princess of the house I do as I please."

From his place near the door, Giovanni could almost see the wave of obnoxiousness radiating from the girl. Seeing how the word had gone straight to her previously over large head, he now regretted ever saying it. Reaching into one of her bags the dark haired male pulled out one of her many feather pillows and aimed for her face. Much to his pleasure the cushion hit its target. When he saw the scandalized expression that now covered the girls face Gio couldn't help but laugh.

Sitting perfectly still, Claire stared in shock at her friend until she too broke out in laughter. Reaching down she picked up the pillow and threw it back at the boy, hitting him in the side of the face that was towards her. Thus was the start of an intense pillow war that lasted for a little over thirty minutes. Pillow after pillow was thrown across the room in a mad frenzy until the end. By then Giovanni was exhausted and did not aspire to infiltrate the makeshift fort the blonde had made out of the closet door and the armed chair. Sprawled out on the bed he called out,

"Claire come out now mi arrendo."

Crawling on hands and knees, the girl came out from behind the furniture wall and looked up at Gio.

"Aren't you so cute collapsed in defeat? I should get you a little white flag."

"Vaffanculo_._"

Chuckling, Claire walked over and joined Gio on the bed. The partial Italian had already started to doze off so she took the liberty of playing with his hair.

"It's nice to see that you're not all grown up and boring Gio."

"I would seem less "grown up" if you stopped acting like a five year old, and stop braiding my hair!"

"If you don't want it fussed with, then don't keep it long."

Reaching over his shoulder Gio swatted her hand away, and then moved to a spot on the bed as far away as possible from her. Rolling over to face the impudent girl, Gio mentally sighed at the mischievous grin Claire wore, sending back a suspicious glare of equal strength.

"Claire why the hell are we here?"

"I don't know Gio why are we here?"

Now sighing for real, the brown-haired teen crossed his arms across his chest. If Claire was going to play games, he could easily play along.

"I am here to make sure that some insane 18 year old blonde girl doesn't wind up in jail again or worse, dead in the bottom of some London trash bin because it seems that every time she goes to visit her father something bad happens."

"Nothing bad happened the last time."

"Some crazy bastard jumped through the front windows and then there was a fucking knife fight in the living room! That doesn't register as bad on your scale?"

Smirking directly into the face of pure anger, Claire responded.

"Non ce n'est pas mauvais."

"_Dio Mio!_ I'm going to have to take care of you for the rest of my life aren't I?"

"Yes me and my seventeen bastard children, all with different fathers."

The exuberant burst of laughter accompanied by this remark was quickly followed by a smack on the head from Gio.

"Go ahead and laugh now, but it's true all except for the 'seventeen kids' part. After the first one I'm having your _figa _sewn shut!"

"Well then fine go ahead and sew me up. I would love to see your face when you do."

Shaking his head Giovanni did his best to rid his mind of the horrible images that thought produced.

"Just please tell me why we're here."

"I'm here to visit my mum, mon papa, and eventually my half siblings."

"Why do you get all British when you say mum?"

"Because she is British!"

Looking her dead on, Gio shot Claire an unimpressed look.

"Ok you can drop the whole woman act right now. Three seconds after I walked into this crazy house I knew 'femmina' was a maschio_."_

Claire ceased looking Gio in the eyes and directed her attention to her hands, all the while sheepishly laughing.

"Well…. I thought you might be smart enough to figure that out."

Ignoring the implied doubt of his intelligence, Giovanni continued.

"Further more would you mind explaining to me why your father is only eight years older then you? Did your mother have sex with an eight year old homosexual?"

"Non my mother had sex with a twenty-six year old pansexual."

"And how old is he now?"

"Twenty-six…."

Angry yet again, Gio glared at Claire.

"That makes no sense!"

"It makes complete sense provided that you know what I'm talking about."

"Then tell me what the _cazzo_ you are talking about!"

"You want to know the truth!"

"SI! THAT'S WHY I ASKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

Looking back up at Gio, Claire noticed his face was extra red now. _Must be my mind games are getting better._

"The truth is that my father and my mum are the human forms of France and Britain. They are both as mentally old as their respective nations, but physically they're twenty-six and twenty-four … ish. When Francis impregnated my mom he was twenty-six and now he is an eighteen year older twenty-six year old."

At this Gio went silent and just stared back at Claire. After a moment of calm, he finally replied.

"I think my brain hurt less when they were just fucking well-aged gay trannies."

Laughing Claire wrapped her arms around Gio and rested her head on his shoulder, even when he started to squirm and curse.

"Most likely, thinking against the laws of nature really isn't your thing."

"But how did he get… pregnant."

"Don't even try to explain how that happened. After the bit with the sex not even ChaCha knows."

* * *

When people came to Arthur's house, often times they asked as to why a place of its size only had one spare bedroom. Most people assumed that it would have four or five, not just a single guest bedroom. The truth was that long ago Arthur had converted the extra rooms it libraries, storage rooms, and other rooms of that sort in an attempt to ward off massive amounts of unwanted visitors. Staring down at the boy sleeping on his couch he realized now that his attempt really hadn't helped at all.

A night of sleep had not helped Arthur's feelings towards the brunette, if anything it had just made him angrier. The rude boy had just accompanied Claire to his house, making sure she arrived safely at her destination and when she had stated that she was staying he didn't even have the decency to leave. Instead, he had stayed with Claire, to protect her from danger of all things! Pausing in thought Arthur realized that all his complaints made no sense at all, in fact under normal circumstances Arthur would find the boy's loyalty admirable and protectiveness quite necessary when dealing with Claire. _Dear Lord, now I have the overprotective father disease._

Immediately Arthur glared down at the sleeping person, as if trying to smite him for causing his sudden rush of parental instincts. Completely unaware that he was being watched Giovanni continued to sleep, arms dangling off the sides of the couch, mouth agape, and snoring quite loudly.

"Is there a reason why we are watching a boy as he sleeps?"

Without him knowing, Francis had come up behind the Brit, and was now standing right next to him. Save for the snoring the room had been previously quiet, so when Francis finally said something Arthur jumped from the surprise.

"Francis! Why must you always sneak up on me?"

"Because it's fun to frighten you."

Rolling his eyes at the predictable response and the smirk that followed, Arthur looked up at the Frenchman. When the Brit felt the need to answer Francis' original question his tone was dripping with harsh sarcasm.

"If you must know I'm watching this person because I'm practicing being Spanish."

Sensing the fact Arthur was in the mood to be vicious Francis just shook his head at the man.

"You can be so harsh sometimes."

"Brutal is fun."

"I bet, but in all honesty why are you standing in front of Gio creepily watching him sleep?"

Arthur looked away from Francis and let his gaze shift towards the boy once more.

"Because he's snoring and he's on my couch."

Francis decided to pretend that answer made sense.

"You know once you get past his abrasive personality he's not a bad kid."

"How would you know? You've never met the kid."

"True, but I do know that when ever Claire's not home he calls just as frequently as her mother to make sure she's not in trouble. I admit it's a bit stalker-ish, but he has good intentions."

Quickly glancing down at the boy on the couch, Francis smiled before looking at Arthur again.

"I'm guessing his sleeping on the couch has something to do with you?"

"I'll be damned if I let those two sleep in the same room. I don't care if they say they're just friends, they won't be for long."

Crossing his arms, Arthur faced Francis.

"Any bloody fool could see that Claire is falling for him and his whole anger routine is just something he does to delay coping with his real feelings for her."

The grin that spread across Francis' face clearly acknowledged the irony of Arthur's statement. Francis didn't say anything, but Arthur knew that he was laughing on the inside.

"Don't even give me that look. I hate it when you twist things about other people so that they shove "us" in my face."

"I'll do my best to alter my countenance. In the mean time how about I make you some breakfast to distract you from your brooding?"

"Fine, just please no more crepes. I know I've been eating them non-stop this week, but I think if I have another one I will die."

Still smiling, Francis took the Brit's hand and escorted him into the kitchen. Not too soon after Arthur was nestled at the table with the morning's newspaper and some tea, talking to Francis as he made eggs. After several minutes of near silence, Arthur looked up from his paper and struck up another conversation.

"Francis?"

"Oui cher?"

"Why is it that last night you seemed wary of Giovanni, but now you seem to be perfectly fine?"

The Frenchman began to respond, but then realized he didn't know what to say. Pausing for a bit he thought until thought of the answer he wanted.

"Last night I realized that even though I've only know her for two years, that Claire is not a baby. Also, like you said any one could plainly see the road their relationship will go down soon."

Sliding the eggs out of the frying pan and onto two plates, Francis walked over to the table and sat down with Arthur.

"I figure that after eighteen years those two should know each other pretty well and out of all the guys she could end up with, the one who keeps her out of trouble and is not afraid to tell her she can be an arrogant idiot sometimes is probably best for her."

Picking up his fork, Francis began to eat his eggs unaffected by the fact Arthur was looking at him with a bewildered look. After a few minutes of silence, the Frenchman glanced back up at the Brit who was still watching him.

"Is something wrong amour?"

"Stop twisting things!"

Laughing aloud, Francis smiled at the Brit who finally began eating.

"I swear I do not do it intentionally. I think it's you who is twisting things."

"Yeah what ever."

Francis shook his head in amusement as he too returned to his breakfast.

"Are you going to the World Meeting today? They scheduled it in London so that you wouldn't have to send Gavin in your place again."

"No I'm not. Might as well let the Welshman feel important for a little longer."

Checking his wristwatch, the Frenchman abruptly stood from the table.

"Speaking of that meeting I've got to go. À bientôt mon cher."

Leaning over the table, Francis pecked the other man on the lips and then briskly walked out towards the door. However, before he completely left the room he turned around to face Arthur once more, a slightly worried expression on his face.

"I'll take a taxi so that you've got a car, just in case. I wouldn't want you stuck without a way to the hospital, and you remember my number right?"

"Yes Francis, now get going you silly man."

Arthur found himself shaking his head at the Frenchman's antics. The way Francis acted you would think he was a bomb that could explode at any second.

* * *

Deciding there really was nothing better to do Arthur sat around reading the newspaper until Claire woke up. It had been awhile since he last saw her and he felt the need to spend some time with her. He waited for about and hour before she finally made her way downstairs. Still wearing her pajamas she sleepily wandered into the kitchen, letting loose a yawn, but as soon as she saw Arthur sitting at the table all traces of her drowsiness disappeared.

"Bon matin maman!"

"Good morning Claire."

Finishing the paper he was reading, Arthur folded it up and watched the blonde. Claire wandered around the kitchen, pulling dishes and ingredients from the cupboards presumably to make her breakfast. She began to make some creation as if she instinctively knew what she needed to do. _Knowing her, she probably was born knowing how to cook perfectly._

It wasn't too long before she started humming a tune, causing Arthur to smile. Her hereditary history was obvious, and quite humorous. _So much like her father. _After a few more minutes of observation, Arthur struck up a conversation.

"What exactly are you doing Claire?"

"Making pancakes for Gio and myself."

"The boy's not even awake yet."

"I know, that's what the pancakes are for."

Slightly confused Arthur looked over at the girl, who just smiled in response.

"Dearest Gio really only does three things; Sleep, nag, and eat. Trust me when I say that as soon as the food hits the plate he will be wide awake."

Sarcasticly Arthur replied.

"Is he southern Italian by any chance?"

"Oui, but not entirely. His mother is Sicilian, but his dad's French. In fact, Jacquan is one of my mom's close friends. I grew up calling him oncle."

Upon hearing this Arthur stared incredulously at her, almost as if he couldn't believe what he had heard. In fact, he actually didn't completely comprehend Claire's words.

"So Giovanni is French-Italian?"

"Yeah… is that an issue?"

"No, just …weird."

Shaking his head, Arthur tried to forget the disturbing picture that was playing through his mind. Smirking Claire placed the finished pancakes onto plates and set them on the table Arthur was sitting at.

"I'm guessing Sud de l'Italie et Papa aren't the best of friends?"

"Not in the least. The Vargas brat has always hated every aspect of Francis' being even though they are some strange sort of brothers."

Choosing the seat closest to Arthur, Claire sat down and began to eat her breakfast.

"Perhaps that is why Gio seems to have a natural instinct to deny his French heritage."

"I'm not French Claire, drop it already!"

Appearing as if he was still asleep, the grumpy teen staggered into the kitchen and sat in front of the other plate set on the table. As he began to devour his pancakes, Claire sent at joyful smile at Arthur, glad that she had been proven right.

"Mia madre was born in Palermo, and mio padre in Roma. Therefore I am Italian."

"True, but both your father's parents were fully French so really he was French as well."

"Bugie!"

Giving up on the subject for the time being, Claire turned to the Brit.

"I don't understand why he does this."

"I don't ask me. If I was in his position I would do exactly the same."

At first Claire looked slightly offended, but then her expression of distaste was replaced with that of cheeky arrogance.

"That's right you don't want to be a Frenchman, you just like to screw them."

Immediately the table erupted into a roar of noise. Giovanni nearly choked on his food upon hearing this, and Claire began to laugh at her cleverness. Awaiting the angered tirade that was sure to come Claire smirked, but Arthur was feeling clever as well. Instead of yelling he leaned forward on the table, head resting on hands and addressed the teen.

"You are absolutely right Claire. I love nothing more then your father pounding me into the sheets night after night. Have you ever thought about that darling? Your father and I making nasty, kinky love, covered in sweat, and panting?"

Now feeling slightly devious Arthur looked around the table, and was glad to see two very disgusted faces.

"Ha! Who's laughing now?"

Rising from the table, he left to go tend to his garden. _It's nice to win._

* * *

As the morning melded into afternoon, Arthur found himself once more in the kitchen, washing dishes in the sink. His garden now completely groomed he had moved onto his next task on the list of things to do. The Brit had decided months ago that when Francis left for business there was no use just sitting and waiting for his return, and he might as well do something useful with his time.

From his spot in the kitchen he could hear playful banter coming from the two teens in the next room. When Arthur had chosen to do chores Claire had volunteered Gio and her self for laundry duty. Presently they were supposed to be folding laundry, but it sounded more like Gio was complaining and Claire was taunting him with a pair of lacey panties she found in a basket.

Arthur had been laughing at the sounds of chaos coming from the room now that Claire had flung the garment at his head, when suddenly the Brit felt a sharp pain below his abdomen. The unexpected onslaught forced him to lean against the counter for support.

"Must be one of the kids kicking."

Assuming one of the children was being hyperactive again, he returned to the sink. As the pain grew sharper, he realized that wasn't the impact of a baby foot, but in fact a contraction. Soon after the first there was more to follow. One particularly painful contraction nearly brought him to his knees and he had to grip the edge of the counter to stay up. _Holy mint bunny! I'm going into labor. _As if the further cement the fact into his mind his water broke, and he was left breathless at the shock.

Franticly he began thinking what to do. _This is happening a lot faster then Doctor Scott said was normal._ Now slightly worried he stood up and attempted to make his way towards the front room.

"Are you going to spend the entire day in the kitchen Arthur?"

Claire came striding into the kitchen in search of Arthur. When she saw him, her expression of happiness morphed into one of shock.

"Maman, what's wrong?"

"What do you think Claire? I've gone into labor!"

Arthur didn't mean for his words to come out harsh, but the surprise of the experience had his head reeling. Going completely blank, Claire couldn't do anything but stare. When she did think to talk, she forgot to use English.

"Qu'est-ce que tu as dit?"

Arthur reluctantly thought of a reply in French, but before he could even form the words he had another contraction, this one more painful and longer lasting then the others.

"Shit!"

Stepping backwards, Arthur leaned against the counter once more. It was then that Giovanni wandered into the kitchen. He had heard the loud curses and assumed Claire had lit something on fire, so when saw what really was going on he was just as shocked as Claire. The only difference was that unlike the blonde he did not halt all bodily functions.

"Giovanni get me t-"

"Sí, lo so!"

Fortunately for Arthur, Giovanni seemed to know what he was doing. Bolting over to the Brit, he wrapped his arm around him for support and started walking him towards the car. He started coaching Arthur on his breathing, and once the Brit began to breathe steadily he turned to Claire.

"Biondo! Go find his car keys and drive us over the hospital."

Seeming to snap back into reality at the brunette's harsh tone, Claire began searching around the house. By the time she found the keys the two men were out by the car, so she ran to join them.

"Gio, I can't drive yet! Technically I haven't passed my test!"

After he finished helping Arthur into the back seat, Giovanni turned to Claire.

"I feel like some one giving birth in your backseat is a legitimate excuse for not having your license! Now drive!"

Without another word, Giovanni climbed into the backseat next to Arthur. Immediately after that, Claire jumped into the driver's seat and set off for the hospital.

* * *

Cliff Hanger!

Ok so there's the end of that Chapter. Now that Arthur's giving brith I really want to start writing, but i can't say as if the next chapter will be up soon. Monday I'm off to spend a week in Washington D.C. being extra American, and next Friday is my first dead line for my summer work... and guess who only read the first 40 pages of the book she needed to read...

For those of you who don't know ChaCha is a texting service where you text the number questions and it texts back answers. It's a running joke with my friends that ChaCha knows everything... although I'm not sure if Europe has ChaCha... well you do now!

I promice I'll update this as soon as I can! Reviews are wonderful!


	17. Chapter 17

Greetings from almost Canada!

Wow ok I'm really sorry for the long wait on this chapter. My only excuse is that within the last couple of weeks I actually aquired a life. A week in Washington D.C., deadlines, freinds who remember to hang out with me, Pirate Day at the Renaisance Fair :3, spending a week at a friends house, AND my English Mastiff went into labor as soon as I sat down to write this last week... how ironic.

Well anyways it's here now, and the moment you've all been waiting for had arrived.

One quick note before I go into translations:

This year I befriended my school's French exchange student (along with the Switz one, but that's a whole nother mind scarring story) Her name was Tiphanie, which is the French form of Tiffany and is prnounced **Tea-fon. **Remember that because it's going to make sence later.

**Translations:**

Où est ma Angleterre- (French) Where is my England

J'ai dit- (French) I said

Il nom est Elizabeth- (French) His name is Elizabeth

Non, mais merci beaucoup- (French) No, but thank you very much

миссис- (Russian) Mrs.

Je suis arrivé!- (French) I have arrived

Grazie Giovanni, Grazie- (Italian) Thank you Giovanni, thank you

De rien-(French) Your welcome

vraiment-(French) really

bionda-(Italian) Blonde

mi querida-(Spanish) My darling

Oncle-(French) uncle (Yes this is the word for uncle, not just a spelling mistake)

Che diavolo-(Italian) What the hell!

puttane gigante-(Italian) giant whores

Lei pensa che io non capisco italiano- (Italian) You think I do not understand Italian?

No, signore. Penso che i francesi hanno problemi-(Italian) No sir, I just think the French have problems

Mi piaci-(Italian) I like you

Nos petits anges-(French) Our little angles

Mon doux Davet-(French) My sweet Davet

Sono così adorabili!-(Italian) They are so adorable

Aranyos!-(Hungarian) Cute!

We have two angry Italian here, and yes one of them is the one you expected last time I said that.

* * *

At the front desk of the London hospital sat Mrs. Amanda Trombly, a stern, stout woman in her mid fifties. Most of her life had been spent on a farm in Austria with her four older brothers before she had moved to London and pursued employment. She was a woman of steadfast morals, strict rules, and harbored a vast love for order. Around the hospital she was jokingly referred to as the "Terminator", but contrary to popular belief she was not one to despise disorder. Rather she reveled in the chance to bring sanity to chaos, which is why her job as hospital secretary suited her well.

About ten minutes ago, a very pregnant blonde of questionable gender (and ghastly eyebrows) had burst through the door accompanied by two teenagers. It had only taken a few minutes of their yelling before Doctor Brown came rushing into the waiting room, only to rush the soon to be mother off to the delivery room just as quickly as he had entered. That had been the moment when Doctor Brown had placed her on secretary duty.

The mother-to-be was rumored to have a very "friendly" husband figure. Amanda had never met the man personally, but if the coffee break tales of the staff were to be trusted, it wasn't hard to guess why she was Doctor Brown's secretary of choice. Unlike some of the younger staff, a pleasant face and charming disposition could not distract her from doing her job. She had long since grow out of the need to flirt and had plenty of experience herding hormone stricken males.

Now at her post all she could do was leaf through files until the infamous Mr. Bonnefoy entered her realm, then the real task would begin. She could say with confidence that after 20 years of observation, there is nothing more mentally frantic then an expecting father. Hearing the phone ring, she closed a particularly boring file and answered. Partially through scheduling an appointment for a sonogram, a pair of hands slammed down onto her desk. Looking up she saw was confronted with the gaze of an extremely insane looking blonde. The intensity of his stare and the fact that his grip on her desk was so tight it turned his knuckles white nearly frightened her.

"Can I help you sir?"

"Où est ma Angleterre!"

Giving his a quick once over she realized that he indeed was going insane.

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't understand you."

"J'ai dit, Oú est ma Angleterre!"

Cursing herself for learning Spanish instead of French, Mrs. Trombly attempted to figure out what the man wanted, until suddenly another blonde running up to the desk interrupted her.

"He said, where the hell is Iggy!"

The second man was slightly taller then the first and sporting glasses, but his level of insanity appeared to be equal to that of the shorter blonde. _Thankfully he speaks English, even if it is with that funny accent._

"I'm sorry sir, but there is no person checked into the hospital under the name … Iggy"

Propping his one elbow on the desk, the taller blonde lowered his head and leaned upon his palm. With a slight roll of the eye, he regarded her with a look similar to one a person would give to a slow child. _Definitely American._

"Listen lady. I am sure you would love to sit here and stare at Francis and me, just like every other woman on this planet, but we do not have a lot of time here. Any minute now-"

Cutting off mid sentence, the bespectacled blonde turned to the other who was pacing across the floor.

"What is Iggy's fake girl name again?"

"Il nom est Elizabeth."

Nodding his head, the American turned back to the secretary.

"Elizabeth Kirkland is having twins right now as we speak."

Gesturing with his hand, he motioned towards the other blonde.

"This insane Frenchie is the father of her kids. As you can see, he is so distraught that he has forgotten his English. So could you please tell us where the hell she is!"

Still thoroughly confused, the secretary started going over her list again until she remembered Doctor Brown checking the pregnant woman in as Elizabeth Kirkland. Realizing who the longhaired man was, she nearly smacked herself.

"Oh I'm so sorry! You must be Francis Bonnefoy!"

Ceasing his pacing, the first man turned his attention back to her.

"Oui!"

"Doctor Brown is expecting you in room 215. Would you like me to take you?"

"Non, mais merci beaucoup!"

With a quick smile, the Frenchman ran down the hall. It took him a minute to realize he had gone the wrong way, but after that he was quick to correct his course.

"Thanks!"

Pushing away from the desk, the American began to follow the departed blonde.

"Wait you have to sign in!"

"No time for that silliness!"

With a quick salute the blonde was running, knocking over most everything in the halls as he went.

Mrs. Trombly shouted after the pair, but her cries were in vain. Almost in the blink of an eye, the two were gone from her field of vision. Sighing, she turned back to her desk, muttering about the irresponsibility of youth. Not a second after the sound of a crash down the hall, she heard a tremendously exasperated sigh above her. For the second time in the last minute she looked up from her work, this time wary of whom she might meet.

Standing in exactly the same place the previous two visitors had been, were two more blondes. Fortunately for her they appeared calmer then their predecessors. To the right was a golden blonde man nearly identical to the American, the only difference being his hair, which resembled the Frenchman's. He was smiling, but at each destructive noise that echoed down the hall, his pleased expression broke into one of dread. On the left was an even taller, platinum blonde whose smile, in contrast to his companion, seemed to grow more with each noise.

"Hello sirs, can I help you?"

Nodding his head, the man on the right answered her.

"Hello, my name is Mathew Williams. I'm here to keep track of the two men that just ran off. Any paper work or visiting passes they need, I'll take care of."

As he said this another crash, this time accompanied by screams came from the hall. Again, the blonde man winced.

"I'll also handle any damage claims or lawsuits."

"Yes sir Mister Williams, but may I ask how long have you been here."

"I've been standing at this desk since my brother, the English speaking one, arrived."

"Oh dear. I'm sorry I must have-"

Amanda rushed to make amends, but the man stopped her with the wave of a hand.

"That's ok, you don't have to apologize. I get that a lot."

After signing his name on the check-in sheet, Mathew grabbed the few papers Amanda held out for him and then walked away. The other man began to follow, but only made it two steps before Amanda called out.

"Excuse me sir, you need to sign in."

Turning around, the man responded in a thick, Russian accent.

"I find it best for me not to check into hospitals. You see a few decades ago I tended to put people in here, so most hospitals tend to not take kindly to my visits."

"I can't say as if I have ever heard that excuse before, but you still need to sign in."

The man instantly began to smile an overly happy smile, but it soon faded under Amanda's stern glare. Giving in, the Russian walked back over to her desk and quickly scribbled his name in small blocked letters. Looking back up at her still firm expression, he reached out and patted her head. His tone heavy with sarcasm he addressed her.

"Lighten up миссис. There are plenty more people about to run in here looking for that same room. You should have loads of fun with them."

As the tall man walked away, Amanda directed her gaze towards the glass front doors. Behind them, she could see a massive hoard of people advancing upon the lobby. Shaking her head, she glowered down at her desk. _I am not paid nearly enough._

* * *

"Je suis arrivé!"

Running as fast as his legs would take him, Francis made his way to Arthur's room. When he reached the end of the hall, he found Claire sitting in a chair, twiddling her fingers in her common expression of nervousness. The girl had heard her father's shouts and was now watching him as he dashed down the hall.

"Claire! Où est-"

Wordlessly, she pointed towards the door on her right. Nodding his head in acknowledgement, he turned towards the door. Pausing in front of it, Francis took a deep breath before entering. When he crossed the threshold, it was as if he had traveled to an alternate universe. In complete contrast to the tranquil hall outside, this room was buzzing with activity. Nurses all around the room were rushing to complete the orders Doctor Brown was giving, even the Doctor himself was busy attending to Arthur.

Suddenly the weight of the situation hit Francis and all he could do was stare. His lover was lying across a hospital bed with legs spread wide and a look of absolute pain tainting his expression. Next to him stood Giovanni, holding the Brit's hand and braving through Arthur's steal grip. With all the commotion in the room Francis was able to stay unnoticed until the brown-haired teen looked up and saw him.

"Signore Bonn-"

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN FRANCIS!"

Hearing Giovanni's greeting, Arthur had looked up from the doctor and was now glaring at the Frenchman. Taking another deep breath, Francis walked up to the bed and stood next to Gio. Immediately Francis replaced his hand with the one the teen had in Arthur's, but not before kissing the boy on the forehead.

"Grazie Giovanni, Grazie."

This kind gesture caused some confusion for Giovanni. He wasn't sure whether to smirk at the man's use of Italian or cringe at the mildly intimate contact. Eventually he just gave up and exited the room mumbling a quiet "De rien." While he was watching the boy leave the room, Francis felt the grip on his hand become tighter, and then Arthur screamed. Franticly, Francis looked down at the Brit, whose face was now red and bead of sweat were visibly forming on his forehead.

"Arthur are you okay?"

His breathing deep and a bit labored, Arthur responded.

"Yeah I'm fine, just another bloody contraction. What took you so long?"

"I can't just teleport places cher. I had to take a taxi here."

"You could have RAN!"

The volume of his voice escalated as another contraction wracked through Arthur's body. His grip on Francis' hand tightened tenfold, nearly causing the Frenchman to shout along with him.

"I jumped out of the car as soon as I was five blocks away and ran. Now that I'm thinking about it, I bet Alfred didn't think to pay the driver before he got out…. Poor guy."

Miraculously all traces of pain melted from the Brit's face, leaving instead a scandalized expression.

"You brought Alfred?"

"No he, and some other people followed me when they heard you were in labor."

The pace of his breath rising, Arthur turned his head and looked directly at the Frenchman, his squinted eyes seemingly glaring straight through the Frenchman's soul.

"How did they know I was in labor?"

Sheepishly, Francis returned his gaze.

"It may have something to do with the fact that after Claire called me I stood up, shouted "Arthur's in labor", and then ran from the room."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur laid his head back on the pillow.

"Sometimes I swear you are-"

Before he had the chance to finish his sentence Arthur was hit with another contraction, this one stronger then all the others. Sitting straight up once more, Arthur resumed his yelling. Slightly frightened by the Brit's increase of profanities, Francis flagged down the doctor. Pulling on a pair of plastic gloves, Doctor Scott walked over to the bed.

"Scott what's happening?"

Noticing the Frenchman has panicked expression, the doctor did his best to calm the man.

"Don't worry Francis. Arthur is fully dilated so now the children can fit through. His contractions are going to become more frequent, longer lasting, and more painful now because his body is trying to push the twins out."

"Ok … so what do I do?"

Looking up from Arthur, Scott stared directly into Francis' eyes.

"Hold on for the ride and steal your nerves. There's going to be blood, swearing, and you'll most likely end up with a couple broken fingers."

"Vrai-vraiment?"

Now that he was in his element, Scott seemed to aquire a confident aura. The man was radiating pride and charisma. With a large grin he chuckled at the unusually timid Frenchman.

"That was a joke Francis."

Quickly his intense gaze moved from Francis to the Brit.

"Arthur are you listening?"

"Y-yes!"

"When I say push, I need you to push as hard as you can."

Wordlessly, Arthur acknowledged the doctor then rested his head back on his pillow. He closed his eyes for a second before looking back up at his blonde haired companion.

"Francis?"

As the Brit said this, Francis noted something different in his tone of voice. Some strange emotion he had never witnessed in the man before.

"Yes amour?"

Quietly whispering, as if to keep a secret, Arthur responded.

"I'm scared."

Looking into the emerald eyes of his lover, Francis noticed a single tear spout from them and then run down the cheek of their owner. _So it's fear eh? It's nice to know some of the tales of fearless Captain Kirkland were exaggerated._

Gently Francis wiped the tear away and then clasped Arthur's hand in both of his. Slowly he brought the fingers to his lips, and lightly kissed them.

"I'm right here."

Francis smiled down at the Brit, who managed to form a weak smile in response.

"I hate to interrupt a moment guys, but Arthur you need to push now."

Instantly Arthur complied with Doctor Scott. Not long after the room filled again with the sounds of Arthur's shouts.

* * *

An hour after he first arrived, Giovanni found himself sitting in a chair outside of Arthur's room, lost in his own thoughts. When he had first sat down, the hall had been completely empty save for Claire, but now it was full of people, all of them here because of the babies. _Fat load of good the Doctor's "secluded" room did._

Looking around the room Gio could see a variety of people. Directly across from him was a trio of blondes, they were the first visitors to arrive. Two of the mystery men sported glasses and the third… was just plain scary looking. The shorter haired bespectacled man had been continually pacing up and down the hall since he first arrived, that is after he had ran into the delivery room, shouted "Oh my God mangina" and then ran back out. Eventually the creepy blonde got him to calm down… if you considered arguing, being pulled into someone's lap, and then a sketchy snuggle fest calming. He certainly _did not_. Sadly, the third man was paid no attention, as if he was invisible.

Not too far from them was a pair of darker haired people. The first half of the couple was a longhaired woman with a camera and one of the creepiest fangirl smiles Giovanni had ever seen. Clearly if there had been a window into the birthing room, her face would have been pressed against the glass. Next to the woman was her male companion. The expression plastered onto his very aristocratic face clearly stated his embarrassment, but he did nothing to prevent it. Obviously he had long ago realized there was no stopping the brunette and her crazed ambitions. Giovanni didn't know who this man was, but he understood his pain.

Turning his head more only revealed other groups of people, all equally as weird in different ways. A stoic blonde trying to contain the childish antics of some albino weirdo, a crazy brunette bouncing up and down the hall singing about making pasta with babies, a silent Asian man, also equipped with a camera, and many more. He wasn't sure exactly what about them scared him the most, the fact that they were all way too close to him to be considered safe, or that Claire seemed to know some of them. Thankfully, the blonde girl hadn't been in much of a talking mood since they arrived, so he was spared from that.

"Giovanni?"

_Speak of the devil._ Slowly the teen turned towards the hand that was resting now on his shoulder. From her seat next to him, Claire looked over at Gio with a strange mix of emotions playing across her expression. If he wasn't mistaken, he could almost see a faint blush on her cheeks, which was weird for the seemingly shameless girl.

"Yes Claire?"

"Thank you for… for taking charge when I had no clue what to do."

"You mean when you completely froze when your step-mother thing went into labor?"

"….Yeah when that happened."

Bashfully the blonde withdrew her hand and once more began twiddling her fingers. After this reaction, Giovanni couldn't help but laugh at the wrongness of the situation.

"Did you figure out you're not nearly as high and mighty as you thought you were?"

"I have no idea what you mean by that comment."

In response to Giovanni's laughter Claire donned a slightly bitter, aloof attitude along with crossing her arms.

"Oh so now you're going to pout bionda?"

Even as he said this, the blonde's lips formed into a stubborn pout, only fueling his laughter. Staring directly into the amused expression of her friend, Claire tried to think up a snappy comeback, but soon gave into laughter herself.

"Whatever Gio."

Gently brushing off her pride, Claire turned back to question Gio.

"I still don't understand how you can go from useless couch potato to the Arnold Schwarzenegger of nursemaids."

Within an instant Giovanni rolled his eyes at the typically ridiculous metaphor. His response was heavy with sarcasm.

"I was only there all three times my aunt gave birth Claire. I'm pretty sure I have a decent idea of what to do."

"I think you just like va-"

"Claire mi querida!"

Fortunately for Giovanni, the blonde haired teen was interrupted by a cheery brunette walking down the hall. Upon seeing Claire, the man increased his pace to a near run, spurring extremely angry outbursts from his companion.

"Oncle Antonio! You came!"

"Of course I did silly girl. Do you think I would miss the opportunity to see cute little children?"

Reaching the pair of teens at the end of the hall, the man bent over and lifted Claire off her seat in a passionate hug.

"I would have been here sooner, but the storage closet Lovi and I were in was really dark and he had a hard time finding his panties."

Instantly Claire burst into a fit of giggles at this remark, whilst Gio and the other man who had followed Antonio look absolutely scandalized.

"Che diavolo! You need to learn how to shut your mouth you dumb tomato bastard!"

"But Lovi, I told the truth and I didn't say anything about the sex."

The previously angry Italian was now fuming as he stood behind the Spaniard. Smacking the man repeatedly on the back of the head, he began to shout.

"Shut the fuck up! And put the stupid blonde down!"

"Sure thing Lovi."

Antonio shot his Italian partner a smile bright enough to rival the sun's rays and set Claire back in her chair. This effectively reduced the man's outrage into a small temper tantrum.

"My name is Romano!"

Shaking his head, Giovanni turned his attention back to the once more seated Claire.

"Friends of your papà?"

"Oui."

The blonde teen beamed at the grumpy brunette, but Giovanni really wasn't impressed or surprised. The attraction of weird ass friends seemed to be a family trait.

"Are all his friends such puttane gigante?"

This statement seemed to fuel Claire's laughter even further, but regrettably it had the same effect on Romano's anger. All of the sudden the Italian's rage was directed not at Antonio, but Giovanni. In a single step, the Italian nation positioned himself in front of the teen and looked down on him with a condescending sneer.

"Lei pensa che io non capisco italiano!"

Gio had to pause for a second to comprehend what was happening, but soon after that, he too was on his feet. Much to Romano's despair, the teen was a good six inches taller then he was, and just as formidable.

"No, signore. Penso che i francesi hanno problemi."

Romano paused his automatic response in order to look Giovanni in the eye. That was around the time when Antonio realised the two Italians were adorably similar. After a moment of observation, Romano nodded his head and took a step back.

"Mi piaci."

Unbeknownst to them, Romano's extra loud outburst had left the hall completely quiet. Everyone around them froze, leaving an awkward silence that only worsened when combined with the noises echoing from the room next to them. All the other visitors had began to stare at them, leaving the strange quartet in the spotlight. After a particularly loud outburst from the delivery room, Antonio attempted to lessen the awkwardness with humor.

"Wow…. Arthur is really good at swearing at Francis."

It didn't work.

* * *

Finally, it was all over.

Nine months of turmoil, countless arguments, strange visits from random people, wearing women's clothing, living with Francis, Prussian miscreants with strippers in his house (Francis had finally told him about that,) it had all led up to this moment. One perfect moment after several months of chaos, and half a day of what could only be described as hell.

In his arms Arthur held what he felt was the most beautiful creature in the world. A small blonde haired baby girl was curled up, fast asleep within his hold. She had soft, gorgeous hair that would most likely turn out as luscious as her father's. In fact, most everything about her resembled her father from her thin eyebrows that were so blonde they were barely visible, to her perfectly straight, aristocratic nose. The only thing that marred her mirror image were the stunningly bright emerald eyes hidden behind closed lids. She was indeed a truly stunning being, her beauty only rivaled by her twin. _Funny, only the girls seem to resemble Francis._

Lifting his head, Arthur fondly looked across the room to the spot where he knew Francis was playing with their other child, a predictably blonde child with sparkling blue eyes. Unfortunately, he was cursed with the signature Kirkland brows; although his natural smile seemed to make them appear less severe. As if sensing his gaze, the Frenchman looked up from the small boy in his arms and stared straight into his lover's eyes, his expression the definition of bliss.

"Nos petits anges, they are so beautiful."

A smile upon his face, Arthur nodded his head in agreement with the Frenchman. Looking back down at the child in his possession, he gently reached his hand up and stroked her face.

"We never did think of any proper names for the two of them."

Francis fondly looked down at the newborn in his possession that had just begun to squirm. He was surprisingly active for a newborn child; laughter and happiness seemed to be his only natural instincts. From the moment he had been placed in his father's arms, the boy had been giggling at Francis' coos of affection. The Frenchman couldn't help but feel completely and incandescently happy when he was holding the boy.

As he gazed down at his son, hundreds of possible names went through his head before he thought of one in particular. His smile was instantaneous as he settled on the perfect title for the golden boy. Lowering his face down to the child, he whispered the name as he placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Mon doux Davet."

Straightening back up, Francis announced his decision aloud.

"His name is Davet."

From across the room, Arthur looked Francis' way once more. The Frenchman had expected some protest at the French name, but when he met Arthur's gaze there was no trace of opposition.

"Davet is a wonderful, if a bit girly, name for our son."

"I'm glad you like it cher."

For some unknown reason, Arthur began to laugh quite loudly after Francis said this. When the Brit noticed the other man's questioning look he paused in his rigorous laughter long enough to answer the silent question.

"No desperate pleas to name him after Lafayette or some other pompous, arrogant frog?"

Slightly shaking his head at the halfhearted attempt at an insult, Francis lifted his son up over his head and kissed his stomach, earning him more giggles and a smile.

"He is far too innocent for names such as those. Davet means "loved" and as far as I can tell it suits him perfectly."

Arthur couldn't help but snort at the word innocent.

"I'm surprised any child of yours could posses such a trait."

Quickly looking down, Arthur studied his daughter. It was obvious Francis was leaving her name up to him, or at least if he wasn't Arthur was going to decide it anyways. He soon realized the task had far more meaning then he had first thought. After several minutes of careful consideration he settled on one possibility.

"What do you think about Tiffany?"

"Tiphanie?"

Arthur physically winced at the French pronunciation of the name. With steal in his voice, he corrected the Frenchman.

"Ti-fan-ee."

Chuckling, Francis regarded his lover fondly. _Now there is the sternness I expected earlier._

"Do I really have any choice as to what her name is?"

"No, no you don't."

His smile growing ever further, Francis couldn't help but laugh as Arthur's stubbornness returned. The uncharacteristic sweetness was nice while it had lasted, but Arthur without snide remarks, and a callous attitude wasn't really Arthur at all.

"I see no reason why her name shouldn't be Tiffany."

"Good. Then Tiffany and Davet it is."

Sighing to himself, Arthur fondly gazed down a Tiffany then back at Francis. There were no words in any language that could describe the way Arthur felt just then with the four of them all together. Tears of pure joy threatened to poor from his eyes as he whispered to Francis.

"I love you and I love us, so much."

"My sentiments exactly."

The Frenchman stood up from his seat, intending to get closer to the Brit, but just as he took his first step, a rush of people ran through the door.

"Sono così adorabili!"

"Look at how squishy they are! It's like they're made from Play Doh or something!"

"Aranyos!"

Seemingly faster then the speed of light Alfred, Feliciano, and Elizaveta all stormed into the room, accompanied by Claire, Giovanni, and various other family friends who had been waiting in the hall. Soon they were all crowded around the newly established parents, all captivated by the newborns. Behind them all was Doctor Scott, who shot Arthur an apologetic look when he saw the Brit's questioning expression.

Arthur was about to complain about the excess of people, but when he heard Francis' delighted laughter all his anger faded. Over the crowd, Arthur sought out the Frenchman's gaze, and when it was finally captured they shared a smile. Together they sat, holding their newborn children, surrounded by the people whom they loved, and who loved them back.

Thus was the start of their new family.

* * *

I think I may have just out cuted myself :3

Well that's the usual instalement of dirty humor mixed with fluff and apparently some Schwarzenegger references. Finally the kids are born, but don't think this is the end. I have had an epiloge planned since about chapter 5 so stick around for some more adorable-ness.

I love you all.


	18. Epilogue

Hello my lovelies! Sorry this is taken so long, but between school, several funerals, and my Uncle's Leukemia most days I've been lucky to have an hour to sit down and chill before going to bed. But I have finished this! I have this week off and I've ignored the other work I have to do. Sorry for keeping you waiting.

Translations:

Очень красиво (Ochenʹ' krasivo) - (Russian) very nice

Kon'nichiw - (Japanese) Hello

ITALIENISCH - (German) Italian

CAZZO - (Italian) Fuck

Figlio di puttana! Perché diavolo avrebbe dovuto farlo - (Italian) Son of a bitch. Why the hell would he do that.

Zio - (Italian) Uncle

Maman et ma petite soeur! - (French) Mom and my little sister

Salut - (French) Hello

MAMAN MAMAN! ONCLEANTONIOMADONNÉUNCHIOT! SONNOMESTBURRITO - (Davet gibberish) Don't even try to understand

Oncle Antonio m'a donné un chiot. Son nom est Burrito - (French) Uncle Antonio gave me a puppy. His name is Burrito

Son nom est Burrito maman! - (French) His name is Burrito mom

De nada las cejas - (Spanish) Your welcome eyebrows

Rien d'important - (French) Nothing important

D'accord d'accord - (French) Okay, okay

Comme il vous plaira - (French) As you wish

FYI Liam is my name for Ireland and Duncan is my Scottland

* * *

"Wow your cheeks are so squishy!"

"Hey look! I told you I could make a five pound hamburger!"

"Fusososo~"

"WEST! WEST! WEST! LOOK! I'M IN THE TREE!"

"Who let Alfred make food?"

"Feliciano I can not walk if you are clinging to my leg."

"DON'T TOUCH ME YOU STUPID SPANISH BASTARD!"

"Очень красиво Alfred now lets put down the spatula before you blow up another grill."

Chaos, everything around Arthur was complete and utter chaos.

For some unconceivable reason, Francis had decided that having all of the "family" over for a reunion of sorts was a good idea. The reunion, however, turned out to be more like a world meeting with alcohol; which just meant that the morning after the world renown arguing, he would be stuck trying his best to mop around the people passed out on the floor. By people of coarse he meant Gilbert, Duncan, and the trail of hookers that always followed.

Sighing, he looked across the back yard, where everyone had been contained to, and watched as Alfred ran by with Davet clinging to his head. Arthur was not entirely sure how this had happened, considering only a few seconds ago Alfred was making "food", but their screaming fit was cute in a strange way. _I suppose, _he thought to himself, _that this ordeal isn't entirely horrible. _The last five years had proven to be an intense mix of work and keeping Davet from burning the house down. Naturally this had left little time for visiting the few people he could actually stand to be around. Having them here was nice, it was just everyone else that bothered Arthur.

Standing a small distance from him was Kiku and what Arthur thought might be Mathew. Considering they were both on his very short list of expectable people, he figured he might as well talk with them. Decidedly he marched across the yard, making sure to avoid his drunken brother and the acorns Gilbert was throwing from atop a tree.

"Kon'nichiwa Arthur-san.'

"Hello there Kiku, how have you been…."

His sentence trailed off as his attention shifted to the movement he saw out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he watched as his son rolled down the path towards the front of the house, followed closely by Francis and Antonio. Davet wasn't an intentionally mischievous child, just high-strung; a quality that made him easily manipulatable in the hands of ne'er do wells like Francis and his friend. It was obvious by their facial expressions that they were resigned on being ne'er do wells at the moment.

"Is there something wrong Arthur-san?'

"Not at the moment, but that very well may change."

Quickly Arthur scanned the lawn to make sure they hadn't left any "surprises". He found nothing so far.

"Arthur, did you see that?"

Mathew locked eyes with Englishman, his expression conveying that he too knew what dangers lay on the horizon.

"Yes I did."

Letting slip a wistful smile, Arthur shook his head.

"I'll keep my eye on it, I certainly wont be able to stop them. I've learned that it's unreasonable to expect a wall built by Franco-Spanish stupidity to fall, no matter how long you beat your head against it."

The group shared a mutual chuckle and soon directed their conversation elsewhere. Arthur was rather enjoying seeing these two again. After awhile, he felt a light tugging on his sleeve. Looking down revealed a mass of golden curls, of which could only belong to his daughter, standing next to him. Smiling up at him Tiffany gestured towards the house.

"Mummy there's a group of people here to see you."

Quizzically, Kiku looked down at the beaming child.

"Arthur-san, do your children always refer to you in a feminine way?"

Said Englishman could only shake his head.

"Yes, it's Claire's fault."

After this he turned his attention back to his daughter.

The girl seemed to be almost bouncing with excitement, which was rare for her. _These visitors must be pretty special._ All transgressions of the party guests forgotten, Arthur bent down to pick up his adorable daughter. After kissing her on the cheek, he excused himself from his company.

"Well then let's go see them before the loon in the tree pelts them with something."

As if the prove his statement several shouts were heard across the yard.

"KESESE I GOT YOU, YOU STUPID ITALIENISCH!"

"CAZZO!"

Together, both father and daughter cringed.

"I think we may be a little late."

"You're probably right Tiffany."

Quicker then before, Arthur sought out the guests. What he found was Giovanni angrily shouting up at the tree, walking away backwards from it as Claire dragged him away.

His mood improved naught when he realized that Claire, along with the majority of the guests, were laughing at him.

"Figlio di puttana! Perché diavolo avrebbe dovuto farlo!"

Still laughing, Claire replied.

"I think he may have mistaken you for Zio Romano."

"How! Do I look like a midget toting around a crazy Spaniard?"

As they approached, Arthur noted two things. First Gio and Claire looked way older then he remembered. _Bloody hell how old are they now? Twenty-three … twenty-four? _Second, there was a middle aged woman walking along side them, whom Arthur had never met before.

She was around the same height as Claire, with wavy chestnut hair and kind looking green eyes. Her smile lines wrinkled as she laughed at the two teenagers, showing years of use. Arthur was about to introduce himself when Claire noticed he was walking towards their group.

"Maman et ma petite soeur! Salut!"

Dropping hold of Gio's arm, she leapt towards Arthur and enveloped both him and Tiffany in a hug.

"Hello poppet. How have you been lately?"

Still smiling, Claire released them from her arms.

"Oh you know, living in the city, going to school, making friends."

"Calling me at three in the morning when you and your crazy friends lock your keys in the car!"

Sounding none to happy (as per usual) the Italian joined the conversation.

"Oh mon dieu, are you really still stewing over that! It was a week ago!"

"Sí! You know how seriously I take my sleep!"

Quickly the two dissolved into an argument, both slipping into their respective languages. Deciding not to even bother trying to halt the dispute, Arthur moved to figure out who the mysterious woman was. He set down Tiffany and gave Claire a pat on the shoulder.

"Make sure you say hello to your father Claire. It's been awhile since we've seen you."

Without waiting for a response Arthur moved around the couple, but once again he was interrupted. This time it was in the form of Davet, running full speed towards him shouting at the top of his lungs in nearly incomprehensible French. Not too far behind him were the other two men who had disappeared with him earlier.

"MAMAN MAMAN! ONCLEANTONIOMADONNÉUNCHIOT! SONNOMESTBURRITO!"

With a look that conveyed his complete bafflement, Arthur responded to his child.

"Davet sweetie what have I told you about slowing down when you speak. When even your father can not understand you, you're doing something wrong."

Heaving a sigh, the child repeated his self.

"Oncle Antonio m'a donné un chiot. Son nom est Burrito"

"What!"

Looking down into Davet's arms Arthur did indeed find a small terrier squirming around and licking the boy's face. Immediately Arthur looked up at Francis. The Frenchman seemed to be torn between fear of the Englishman and the joy of spoiling his son. Antonio on the other hand was content enough to smile his normal air-headed smile. Through gritted teeth, Arthur addressed Francis.

"Francis why does he have a dog?"

"Son nom est Burrito maman!"

Crouching down next to his son, the Frenchman tried to give Arthur a placating smile.

"Oui cherí his name is Burrito."

Arthur simply cleared his throat in derision.

"Regardless of … Burrito's name, I thought we had agreed we would get him a dog when he was older."

"Oui mais…. Antonio did it!"

Rather childlike, Francis pointed his finger at his friend.

"Did you really?"

"Sí why else would his name be Burrito."

The Spaniard's face took on a slightly malicious look.

"And I did it just in spite of you."

"Oh why thank you Antonio."

Arthur's tone was heavily sarcastic, but still Antonio smiled. Reaching forward he ruffled the shorter blond man's hair.

"De nada las cejas."

"Why you little-"

But before Arthur had enough time to think of a proper insult, Antonio ran off.

"OOOOH! Claire and Gio mis amigos! Lovi missed you so much! Well not so much you Claire, but he loves having another grumpy friend even if you're like fifteen feet taller then him."

Grabbing both the teens Antonio disappeared, Davet following with Burrito, leaving Arthur alone with Francis.

"What was that about?"

"Rien d'important."

Scowling, Arthur replied.

"You're going to have to explai-"

Before he could finish, Francis grabbed him around the waist and quickly pressed his lips to Arthur's. With a burst of passion Francis claimed Arthur's mouth and then abruptly let them go as fast as he had taken them.

"What the bloody hell was that!"

"A lawful kiss is never worth a stolen one."

Arthur stuck his hands out in order to push the Frenchman away.

"Ugh fine, you'll get away with it this time, but you leave and take your Maupassant with you!"

"Merci petit lapin."

With a quick kiss on the forehead and a wink, Francis began to waltz away.

"And get your idiot friend out of the blasted tree!"

"D'accord d'accord."

In a minute he melded into the crowd, hopefully not about to cause any major trouble. Suddenly tired Arthur sighed. _It's like living with three five year olds._

"You look tired Monsieur. Come, take a seat next to me."

Looking behind him, Arthur saw the woman from before sitting on one of the many benches scattered around the yard. She smiled as she gestured to the empty space besides her. Deciding not to be rude (and that he really was a bit worn out,) Arthur promptly sat down.

"I thought it was hard enough to raise one child of that stock, I can't imagine trying to raise two."

"Not just two, try the whole family."

With a wide sweep of his arm, Arthur gestured toward the congregation of people around them.

"They're all bloody crazy, even the quiet ones."

After a second of contemplating, Arthur shook his head.

"Especially the quiet ones."

The woman chuckled.

"They seem wonderful."

"They're a bloody headache is what they are."

The pair shared a mutual laugh before settling into an awkward silence. Arthur sat trying to figure out who exactly this woman was._ She seems nice enough._ He kept glancing at her face to try and see if he could remember ever meeting her, but he could think of no such instance. _She certainly regards me informally_. Eventual he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but I don't know as if we've ever met before."

"Oh non, excusez-moi. My name is Vivienne Renault, Claire's mother."

"Oh, well hello Mrs. Renault. My name is Arthur, Arthur Kirkland"

So this was the woman that had given birth to Claire. Now that he looked closer, Arthur could find traces of the blond girl in her mother. The radiant smile, cheerful tone, confidence, general body build, and basically all the girl bits Francis could have never passed on to her.

"Please Arthur, call me Vivienne. You're going to make me feel older then I already am."

Ignoring the fact that he felt a bit like a chatty housewife, Arthur continued the conversation.

"Oh please you don't look a day over thirty-five."

"As flattering as that is, I most definitely did not have Claire when I was twelve."

Arthur paused for a second, before shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think about that, but you can never be sure with Francis."

This caused Vivienne to burst into laughter.

"Do you have so little faith in your beloved?"

"Sometimes, yes."

And still Vivienne laughed more. Towards the end of her fit she actually had to wipe a few tears from her eyes.

"Well it look's like Francis finally got what he was looking for."

Brow raised, Arthur stared at the woman. Vivienne just smiled and reached for his hand.

"Sit tight young man. Since my fiftieth birthday I have fully resigned myself to be a wistful, story telling woman."

"I guarantee you I am not what you would call a young man."

Vivienne patted his hand as she scanned the crowd. Finally her eyes stopped as they came across Francis.

"I am not going to question the fact that Francis still looks the same as when I met him twenty-three years ago, or the fact that your children look way too close to you guys to be adopted. But I will tell you this."

Vivienne turned her head to look back at Arthur.

"When I did meet him decades ago, he was a troubled man. He looked much the same, but his smile was forced and his eyes did not have the gleam you see today. Of course when we met I was far worse off then he was, so I couldn't really tell at the time."

Her eyes took on a new, cheerless emotion as she remembered some past memory. Without knowing, Arthur squeezed her hand. With a slight smile she squeezed back.

"The one night I spent with him, he talked of a lover, one he was completely devoted to, but had no inclination to show the same devotion towards him. He seemed to caught in a vicious circle where said lover would not except his love because he was a playboy and quite rude, but it was this denial of love that caused him to be this way."

With a quick chuckle she continued.

"Basically we talked about booze and hookers. Anyways the night started off really depressing. In fact he found me already trashed at a bar, but somehow by the end of the night we found solace."

Arthur noticed as she said this a mischievous glint entered her eye.

"And I don't just mean the sex, although that was pretty good."

If Arthur had had a drink right then, he would have spit it out. He most definitely was not expecting her to say that. Perhaps too many years with the Queen had spoiled him to the niceties of older women.

"What's wrong Arthur? You look startled."

"It's… it's nothing. I really should be used to this kind of talk by now. Please just continue on with your story."

All he could do was shake his head. Still laughing slightly Vivienne continued.

"I won't continue on for much longer. I suppose what I'm trying to say by this story is that night both of us took comfort in shared pain. We had no idea who each other was, but we were better people after this encounter. By the end of that night I actually got the nerve to end my horrible marriage. I'm not sure if Francis woke the next morning feeling better, or even if I did, but-"

In front of them walked Claire and Francis, dancing to some random song they were obviously making up in their own minds.

"I do know that nine months later I received what I needed to have happiness, and a couple of years ago Francis got what he needed."

Taking a second to think, Arthur looked across the yard at his family. The sun was just about to set, casting a romantic pink and orange glow on all who stood under the descending sun.

Claire and Francis were still dancing, but after awhile Francis handed her off to Giovanni sparking several blushes. Davet and Tiffany were chasing Burrito around a table, almost knocking it and all its contents on the ground. Over by another bench Alfred was lounging across Ivan's lap as they watched Ludwig unsuccessfully attempt to pull Gilbert down from the tree. Several of his brothers, particularly Duncan, drunkenly lumbered around the lawn as Antonio drilled Doctor Scott as to whether there was a possibility that Romano could be pregnant.

Arthur wasn't even sure why he was here, or why he would want to be here, but he felt sorry for the man. Especially when Antonio was forcing him to inspect Romano's stomach. Obviously Romano wasn't too happy about this. _Please dear whom ever runs the universe, for the heath and safety of Doctor Scott let Romano not be pregnant._

As he was making these observations he realized that it wasn't just Francis who got what he needed to be happy. He wouldn't have traded these last few years for anything.

"I think it would be safe to say that I got what I needed as well."

"Really now?"

Nodding his head Arthur turned back to the woman.

"My life was empty, now it's not."

Silently Vivienne shook her head in agreement.

"Again I say, you're family is wonderful."

With a smile on his face, Arthur reached over and hugged Vivienne. He normally didn't initiate any physical contact with people he first met, but he was more then willing to make her an exception. Something about this first meeting told him they would be friends for awhile.

"Yes, yes they are. I look forward to our friendship Vivienne."

"As do I mon ami."

The both of them stood up from the bench. Arthur noticed that someone had dragged out a stereo from the house and was playing music. Quite spontaneously Arthur grabbed Vivienne by the hand and walked her out to the makeshift dance floor everyone had formed.

They danced for awhile to the upbeat music, laughing as they twirled each other and jumped around, Arthur even threw in a unprecedented dip during one song. However a couple songs into the night, the music slowed down. Vivienne all of the sudden took the lead and twirled him around, right into the arms of Francis. With a wink she wandered off, she didn't get to far before she was picked up by Liam, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Why hello mon petit, I haven't seen you in awhile."

"Hello … darling."

Francis pulled Arthur against him and began dancing to the slow beat of the song. Without thinking Arthur settled his head on his shoulder and instinctively began to follow the Frenchman's footsteps.

"Oh addressing me as darling are we?"

"I'm in a particularly good mood right now."

Turning his head, Arthur watched as other couples danced around them. He watched as the now visible stars and moon lit up each pair along with the soft glow from the outdoor lights of the house.

"I see you met Vivienne."

"Yes I did. I'm glad that she's the one you knocked up instead of some other undesirable."

Arthur could feel Francis' chest moved as he laughed. Turing his head to the side, Francis kissed the Englishman on the forehead. Moving up next to them was Ivan and Alfred, the latter of which winked at Arthur and made an exaggerated movement of moving their hands from their partners back to their butt. Arthur could only roll his eyes at this.

"You mon cherí have a way with words."

Lifting his head from Francis' shoulder, Arthur kissed the Frenchman with soft passion.

"Please shut up."

"Comme il vous plaira."

For the remainder of the evening the two danced together along with the other couples. They crossed paths with Antonio tangoing with Romano, Claire dragging Giovanni around (although truth be told he didn't seem that bothered,) and Gilbert doing what ever the heck he does with Mathew. Everyone was happy in that moment, and glad they had all stopped arguing long enough to enjoy one night together.

At the end of the night, as Ludwig carried off a sleepy Feliciano, and everyone else staggered out to their cars, Francis and Arthur blissfully walked back into their house. Claire and Gio had long since retired for the night, taking Davet and Tiffany with them. When the blond couple walked into the living room they found Claire half asleep on the couch with both her siblings in her lap, and Gio cuddling a sleeping Burrito.

Lazily getting to her feet, Claire handed off the children to their parents and walked up the stairs with her mother and friend to the rooms they would use for the night. Francis and Arthur soon followed. Davet in his arms, Arthur looked to his left at his lover.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Together they walked upstairs, put the kids to bed, and climbed into their own. As he lay in Francis' arms, drifting somewhere along the edges of sleep Arthur thought to himself. It was surely a night to remember.

The End

* * *

There you go guys :3 I'm so happy/ sad that it's over, but it's ok because Doctor Scott was here! Yay!

Thank you to all of you who have sat through this entire crack fest. What started as one line I thought of in the middle of nowhere has manifested into this. Thanks again for those of you who reviewed and those who have forced me to continue even when I was to lazy.

Peace + Love


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